


There is No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin

by stormbornbxtch



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Arranged Marriage, Crimes & Criminals, F/M, M/M, PEAKY BLINDERS AU BABY, Smut, loosely, too much shit to be tagged but I'm proud of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2020-05-16 21:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 27,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19326022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbornbxtch/pseuds/stormbornbxtch
Summary: "The murder, the drugs, the territory, it's all just business. But family always comes first and family is forever. Unfortunately, business provides for family so you fuck over my business then you fuck over my family and then we got to make things ugly s-"A loud shot fired, clear as day. Whistling through the wind and leaving his ears ringing as the man he was lecturing crumpled to the floor. Blood pouring from his forehead, making a mess on the fucking floor and the bottom of Jon's dress shoes. What the fuck?! He barely got two sentences in and now he couldn't even make a statement, strike fear into the little bitch before he met Satan for himself. He turned over to his wife, checking his clothes for splattered blood, both annoyed and exasperated, "For fuck's sake Dany, what the fuck?!""My sincerest apologies but we don't have time for speeches baby. The Tyrells don't like to be left waiting."___________An alliance is formed between the dragons and the wolves and a war is just beginning in the streets of Westeros.PEAKY BLINDERS AU(This description sucks but please give my fic a chance)





	1. The Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> an engagement is announced

"You want to what?" 

 

Lyanna's shock was expected. 

 

If anyone so as much mentioned the Targaryen name around her she froze up or got defensive like she was now. It was no secret that she loved one of them and after that went to shit she had never been the same. But there was a time and place for emotion and now was the time for business. 

 

Jon paused, moving to grab the smooth metal of his cigarette holder from his suit pocket, flipping it open and pulling one out. 

 

"Jon, you can't be serious! You don't really want to do this?!" It was Arya this time, concern laced in her tone and he wasn’t surprised. She had this thing about questioning his every order but it came from a good place. 

 

Jon didn't say anything, just brought the cigarette to his lips and lit it with the match he kept tucked behind his left ear. The feeling of nicotine invaded his lungs as he breathed in the smoke was comforting, closing his eyes for a second at the sensation. Reveling in his only addiction. 

 

When he breathed out, calm filled him as his eyes flickered open again. Taking in his family in all their Stark glory. 

 

"I don't want to do anything but I  **am** going to marry her." It was simple really, a black and white situation that for some reason his family couldn’t comprehend at the moment. He glanced over to the golden record player on the mahogany desk in the corner. 

 

Some jazz would be nice right about now.

 

"You're going to marry a Targaryen?! You can't be serious Johnny?!" Robb proclaimed as if was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. Truly a man for the dramatics. Jon rolled his eyes, he didn't want to hear it. His mind was made up and this was what was best for the family in the end, he guessed they’d have to see that later rather than sooner. 

 

"I am. The Targaryens control Dragonstone and have a strong presence in both Essos and The Bay. They plan on expanding in Westeros once again to regain The Red Keep from the Lannisters and take back even more territory than they lost. They’re strong but they’re lacking in men up here and they have a  better supply then we do. They need more men and we have more men. Loyal men. And we’ll get better quality product. It’s a mutually beneficial agreement and it gives permanence to this alliance." He answered smoothly, seemingly detached from the entire situation and its because he was. This wasn’t an emotionally driven decision, his choices rarely were. Business came before all things except family, and the Walker threat grew stronger and stronger as the days went on. 

 

They needed allies, powerful allies. 

 

"Our shine does the job when it comes to supply Johnny, this is your future we’re talking about." Talisa stated and Jon could hear Catelyn mutter something under her breath about only blood being able to speak during meetings. He ignored it, Talisa was family now whether she liked it or not. 

 

"Aye, it does. But we need more than just shine, the walkers grow stronger and stronger by the day. The Dragons don’t just shine, they have weaponry, influence, power and more importantly, drugs. More drugs than we could ever imagine and a mutual lust for revenge. The Lannisters are their rivals and they killed our father. We both want to repay them for the courtesy.” His voice was like ice, cold with an edge. Jon gritted his teeth before taking another huff of his smoke.  

 

"They killed our uncle-" Of course Sansa would bring up an uncle she had never met. 

 

"Brandon and Rickard were unfortunate occurrences but the was under different management.  It happened decades ago and Aerys Targaryen has since then been disposed of, I will not hold children accountable for the sins of their fathers. Especially when those children are viable assets to us." 

 

Crazy how he referred to them as children, as if Rhaegar as if wasn’t twice his age. 

 

"That doesn’t mean that they're not capable of the same horrors of their father. Targaryens are ruthless and they cannot be trusted." Lyanna spoke, her voice quiet but meaningful. He looked over to her, her gaze trained on her hands. 

 

She looked smaller than she ever had been before and it pained him. He didn't know if her words were coming from experience or from stories of the past but he didn't question it. What happened between Lyanna and Rhaegar was between the two of them and no one else. 

 

He understood where they were coming from but there were things that Jon knew, information that he received from Rhaegar when they met to discuss a possible alliance. Lyanna’s doubt wasn’t stemming from business transactions but from her own personal heartache over loss. Unfortunately, that didn’t really matter in the moment. They were at war now, bodies would drop no matter what. Jon just wanted to make sure it was less of his own and more of his enemies. 

 

Besides, having the ruthless on their side could never be a bad thing. 

 

They need the Dragons to survive the winter to come. Nothing secured an alliance like a marriage and Targaryens were willing to do what was necessary to keep their family alive, just like them.

 

"They’re our only ticket to better things, they may be our last hope."  Jon told them, pulling a cigarette from his lips and examining it between his fingers. Better to tell them now rather than leave them in the dark forever. 

 

"What are you on about brother?" Bran questioned, like Jon suspected he would. 

 

"According to Rhaegar, The Night King and his white walkers are in talks of expanding as well. Joining hands with the Lannisters as we speak, a possible marriage between Ulysses S. Night and Cersei Lannister." 

 

"The brother fucker?" Rickon questioned and Jon couldn't help the smirk that curved on his lips at his brother’s language. Catelyn smacked him upside the head lightly as a warning.

 

There had been rumors of an illicit fair between Cersei and her twin brother, Jaime. Apparently some nosy cat spotted the two of them outside a speakeasy in Riverrun going at it like animals a few years ago. The story spread across Westeros like wildfire.

 

It was only a rumor though and yet, no one had ever worked to disprove it. Either it was too preposterous for Tywin to acknowledge or it was true and the less they said the better. The Lions were a great house and an even bigger threat, a scandal like that would dampen their reputation. Whether it was based on facts or lies, he didn’t know.

 

But Reputation in this business, you lose that and you lose everything. 

 

Of course, Jon did have his theories and wouldn’t be surprised if there were some incest going on. 

 

"Yes that Cersei. So either we s-" 

 

"And why should we listen to a word Rhaegar Targaryen has to say?!" Catelyn interjected and Jon pinched the bridge of his nose to contain his irritation. 

 

He didn't like being interrupted. 

 

Jon didn't like Catelyn. 

 

Jon especially didn't like being interrupted by Catelyn. 

 

"Because he has no reason to lie. The Starks have been at peace with The Targaryens for years now thanks to father, sevens bless. He needs us just as much as we need him, especially if the merger between the Lannisters and the Walkers follows through. We need to be ready for it." He explained in the calmest voice he could muster without showing his annoyance. 

 

"Yeah but do you really want to marry the girl Johnny?" Sansa asked again, the genuine concern startled him a bit. The two had never been very fond of one another, she tended to adopt the same mindset as Catelyn when it came to him as they grew up. That is until he went away for the war, when he returned he found mature women in the place of the childish half sisters he had left behind. 

 

Sansa apologized to him for her treatment. She had made a good man out of Dickon Tarly, a bit of an airhead but a good man nonetheless. His father had influence and now allegiance to The Starks because of their union so it was smart on her behalf, even if it was out of love and not obligation. The entire family had come to accept Dickon as their own, even Catelyn who had still not taking a liking to Talisa even though Robb has been married to her for a longer amount of time. But that was a different matter completely.

 

Sansa had become a different person when he returned and the sorrow she felt for the way she had ostracized him was jarring. General care from her was jarring if he was being truthful but he was growing used to it. 

 

He could even see her as a sister now and not a constant annoyance. 

 

"I already answered that question." He brought the cigarette back to his lips and inhaled. 

 

"How do we know they'll actually merger?" Bran asked, shuffling with his coat as he did so. 

 

"We don't but we can't wait for them to make the first move. The Walkers have been a thorn in our side since their founding. We have been at a standstill with them for  years now, The Targaryens will give us the power to end them just as we will give them the power to end the Lannisters. Two birds, one stone." Jon explained, exhaling the nicotine between his lips as he spoke.  

 

"And then what happens to the Lannister and White Walker territories when we're done." Robb  questioned and Jon turned to face him. 

"It becomes the Baratheons and the Martells. With Arya's marriage to Gen-" 

 

"I am not marrying Gendry."  The short haired brunette said, cutting him off. It took everything in him not to roll his eyes. Gendry was a good man, a friend of his in the war who returned with him to Winterfell after it. He was a bastard to Robert Baratheon, who had not been an enemy of the Starks but he sure as hell wasn’t an ally either. When he returned, Robert made him the heir to his empire after the death of his successors, he was the last one left. But by the time he had, Gendry and Jon had already formed a brother like bond and both he and Arya had grown rather taken with each other. 

 

Gendry had planned to marry her before his estranged father had reached out and Jon knew damn well that she would've said yes. Yet now when their union had came with the slightest political advantage, she was on the offense. 

 

Now wasn't the time for Arya's false righteousness, he knew she didn't like the family business. Not since Ned, sevens bless, was killed but she would just have to deal with that. They were the fucking Starks for crying out loud. This is what they did and this is what they were, whether she liked it or not, that wouldn't change. 

 

"Yes you are, Rickon's too young to marry Shireen, Robb and Sansa are already married and they’re are no other suitable arrangements to be made with Bran considering his preference for men. You are the only valid option here Arry." Jon chatisized, moving to extinguish the cigarette on the wall behind him.

 

"Why don't I have a say in this?" 

 

"Because your argument is pointless, you and Gendry love one another and he would've proposed to you whether or not his father made him the heir. Now there's just a little extra incentive in it for the rest of us" 

 

"Jon-" 

 

"No. We all have obligations to this life whether you want to accept them or not. None of us chose this Arya, none of us. But this is our family’s way of life, nothing on heaven and earth is going to change that. Now the man you love is involved in the very same business as us. It seems to me that fate is trying to tell you something." 

 

Arya glared in his direction but said nothing, simply turned around and walked away. Nymeria close behind her. 

 

The loud slam of the door sounded and everyone but Jon flinched at the ear splitting interruption of their silence. 

 

"When's the wedding?" Robb asked after a beat of silence. 

 

Jon sighed, sticking his right hand in the pocket of his dress pants. 

 

"Tomorrow, but until then, it's business as usual." 

 

"Tomorrow Jon?!" Rickon asked and Jon nodded. 

 

"The sooner we get this done the better. You'll be meeting their family as well as my future wife later tonight but until then, you all know what to do." 

 

Despite the shock, no one bothered to argue any further. Jon's mind was made and once that was accomplished, there was nothing any of them could do to to talk him out of it. And Jon's words, they were always final. 

  
  


~TS~

 

Jon stared at himself in the mirror, his suit was fancier than usual. His best in fact, he figured it should be when meeting the woman he was meant to spend the rest of his life with. He had heard the stories of Daenerys Targaryen, supposedly one of the most beautiful women in the world. He didn't particularly care for that, beauty could only get one so far and it would only last so long, especially in the life they lived. He hoped she could hold her own and not just worry about if the dress she wore made her ass look fat. 

 

When he pictured himself getting married, he'd figure it'd be with a head strong woman. Like his mother Ashara or his aunt Lyanna, two of the strongest women he had ever known. He wanted a partner, rare for most men this day and age but Jon needed that. Someone he could rely on and trust if things went wrong and he was sent back to prison like he was only a few months ago.  Someone who could take over in his absence, Robb was too blinded by emotion and Bran blinded by logic and paranoia in stressful situations. One too overly irrational and the other one too rational. 

 

Sansa wanted a simple life, the only reason she was as involved as she is was because she cared more about her family than her dreams of a farmhouse in the country. Arya was out of the question, marrying Gendry was one thing but taking over for him in a state of emergency was not something she could do. Her pride would get in the way and Rickon was still a boy with eyes bigger than his stomach. 

 

There was a time where he thought Ygritte or Val could've been that person he could rely on. But he was sorely mistaken. 

 

He could only hope that this Daenerys was somewhat competent enough to keep up with him. 

 

Jon sighed, moving to adjust his tie one last time, hands smoothing over the sides of his jacket. The familiar feel of his gun holster beneath the fabric set his mind at ease. He looked at himself over in the mirror one more time before closing the wardrobe door.

 

He reached for his container of cigarettes on his bedside table before grabbing his cap and making his way out the door. 

 

The family was waiting for him, dressed in their Sunday best. If it wasn't for the mix of Stark colors in their clothing, you would guess they were on their way to a funeral instead of meeting their sister in law and her family based on their demeanors. When he stepped in, they all looked to him and for a second Jon was a bit overwhelmed. 

 

Taking Ned's place was still something he was getting used to.  Even after being in the position for three years, it was moments like this where he especially felt the weight of it all. 

 

Yet he didn't show it, he never did. Instead he moved towards them and then passed to the front door. A gentle hand came down on his shoulder and Jon turned his head over to Rickon who was staring at him, his suit was clean and Jon could see that the boy wasn’t too far from becoming a man. Nine this year and he already had his eyes on the business. Crazy how much kids want to fast forward through time and adults wanted to reverse it. 

 

"You okay?"

 

Jon smiled, a genuine one which was a rarity these days before nodding in the boy’s direction. 

 

"Never been better little brother, never better." 

 

~ PS~

 

The Targaryen Estate in Dragonstone, was nothing like any of them had ever seen. Jon knew their territory was large and their legitimate front of real estate brought in almost as much revenue as their other activities but not to this extent. Jon looked over to Arya who sat beside him, astonishment in her eyes and he smirked.   

 

The three hour trip seemed to be worth it to her at least. 

 

He still didn't know why she opted to sit with him instead of Gendry. Jon had invited him as a way to introduce the Baratheons to the Targaryens for the first time. He would take over for Robert soon, the old man was getting sick and from what Jon had heard, he was getting worse and worse every day. 

 

Despite the lack of closeness between Gendry and his father, Jon knew it was getting to him a bit. Especially since for the past two years, Gendry had been studying under him and learning the ins and outs of the business he was destined to inherit. Jon guessed it would only be a matter of time, maybe a month or so but he could do it. 

 

Gendry was different now, a changed man from the broken boy who had come back from the war. They both were. 

 

The thought wasn't as comforting as it should've been. 

 

Jon tore his eyes from his little sister who he assumed was angered at her fiance at the moment. He turned to the button and speaker that lied outside the silver gates before pressing down on. 

 

A gravelly voice filled his ears and it posed a simple question in a polished. 

 

"Dragonstone Manor, may I ask who you are and who accompanies you sir?" 

 

"We’re The Starks." 

 

"Of course sir." 

 

The gravelly sound cut off, only for Jon to watch as two men came from the shadows in the trees, armed with guns strapped to their backs. Instinctively, Jon's hands flew to his ribcage for one of his pistols and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Arya reaching for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh beneath the fabric of her dress. He resisted the urge to smile at the thought of her still keeping needle close. 

 

His body relaxed as the men reached up and unlocked the gates, pulling open the double entrance to let the cars pass through. Jon didn't waste a minute acknowledging them and instead pulled off into the long driveway. 

 

He took in the scenery, the pine trees and overwhelming amount of space that lead the way to the main house. Once he finally did pull into the circular end of the driveway, spotting the red and black roses were planted in front of the house. Their signature colors. 

 

He pulled the key from the ignition and peered out a bit. Taking note of the butler who awaited them at the glass double doors of the entrance, Jon stepped out of the car. Slamming the door behind him before opening the back door and allowing both Ghost and Nymeria out. The Starks didn’t go anywhere without their wolves. 

 

He could feel the uncertainty of his fellow family members as they made their way to the front. They followed close behind and Jon knew they were hyper aware of what they were walking into. He was as well and it was smart of them to be alert. Goosebumps crawled up the back of his neck as the cool fall air blew against the exposed skin. 

 

A tan, dornish or dothraki looking man in a sleek black and white suit approached, seemingly unguarded which was stupid of him to be. 

 

The butler greeted them with a surprisingly warm smile and Jon nodded in return, "I see you’ve brought the wolves, you must be the famous Jon Stark. We've heard much about you and we're excited to welcome you. My name is Rokharo-" 

 

"You the butler?" 

 

Jon smirked at Pyp's interruption, the man didn't have a patient bone in his body.

 

Rokharo laughed, "no, the only help here are the guards. I'm family and now so are you. Welcome to Dragonstone Manor."

 

The sincerity was blinding and Jon forced himself to not take comfort in it. Then again, why send a man to come greet them if he wasn’t the help. Jon called bullshit but said nothing. 

 

Rokharo opened the crystal door for them and Jon took note of the red stained detailing. 

 

They really prided themselves on this theme huh? 

 

As soon as he stepped into the door, a force knocked into him before it hit the ground. 

 

Jon looked down in surprise at the little body on the hardwood floor, shaken with confusion as he looked back up at him. 

 

"Sorry Mister. " 

 

He stood and ran off just as quickly as he had come. An older girl,  maybe the age of three and ten at the most made her way over to them. She stopped just in front of Jon, a little out of breath. 

 

"You guys are the Starks right? It's nice to meet you and holy shit are those wolves?" She asked with a smile on her face as she looked over at Ghost.

 

She didn’t give him the chance to answer before something clicked in her mind. “This is rude but I gotta go, I hope to see you and your wolves again soon.” She told him  before bolting off in the direction of the boy who just ran into him. Screaming something along the lines of "give it back Jay.” 

 

Jon was overwhelmed by how warm this place was. People, some with silver hair and violet eyes or none of those features roamed around, talking animatedly and laughing with one another. The house was beautiful, with intricate details everywhere. Dragons engraved on peculiar places, the Targaryen red and black found everywhere but not enough to overwhelm, just blend into the home. 

 

He was surprised by how at ease he felt. 

 

"Are you sure were in the right place?" Arya asked next to him and he nodded. 

 

Another man approached, no older than twenty. 

 

“Ma says I’m supposed to escort the wolves out back if that’s alright with you Mister Stark.” He said. Jon moved to open his mouth but Bran beat him to it. 

 

“Yeah, that’s just fine.” He squeezed past them, whistling for the pack to follow and they did. Wagging their tails as they walked cautiously through the house towards what Job could only assume was a spacious backyard. The wolves were good at sensing danger and if they could walk freely within the manor, then the rest of them could too.

 

Realizing he hadn't stepped further than the entrance, Jon moved and stepped to the side so the rest of his clan could pile in. He watched as the Targaryens embraced them once they were in. Some pulling the reluctant members of his family in for hugs even. 

 

He watched as they wandered off in different directions. Noticing how Rickon and the little boy from earlier quickly became friends once he escaped from Catelyn's clutches. A familiar face, Olenna Tyrell, the grandmother of Robb's ex showed as she walked arm in arm with an older man of the same age. The love in her eyes surprised him, he knew the Tyrells and the Targaryens had a similar marriage arrangement but that was decades before Jon and Rhaegar even met. He didn’t think it had lasted and yet, here they were. 

 

He observed everything and everyone, scanning faces and possible exits the more he moved. Just because things were good now didn’t mean they couldn’t go bad. 

 

Jon felt his pant leg being tugged on and his gaze snapped away from analyzing the house he had just stepped into and looked down to see a little girl no older than five standing in front of him.  

 

"Are you Mr. Stark?" She asked, thumb in her mouth, muffling her speech a little as she spoke. 

 

Jon smiled, crouching down to her level to better hear her. 

 

"I am." 

 

"You're gonna marry my aunt Dany?" She asked and Jon nodded. Dany huh? 

 

"Well she's the sweetest lady in the whole wide world. If you hurt her mister, I’ll hurt you." She threatened and the northernmen released a chuckle. 

 

He stopped when a tiny dagger came from behind the little girl’s back and slipped up to his throat. A wicked little grin on her doll like features. His eyes widened as alarm set in. How did she even get a knife? She couldn’t have been older than fucking five. 

 

"Rhaena!" Jon looked up to see a frantic woman moving behind the child, ripping the dagger from her tiny hands. 

 

"What did I tell you about playing in daddy's office?" She warned, turning the little silver blonde around in her direction. 

 

"Sorry mommy, I just wanted to let this guy know who he was messing with. Aunt Dany is the bestest and she deserves the bestest." the little heathen explained as the older woman lifted her in the air. Jon stood, pulling himself together after the miniature threat on his life. 

 

"I know baby, but you can't go around pulling knives on people, especially your aunt’s husband." 

 

Fiance, he wanted to correct but he found it best not to bother. He'd be her husband in less then twenty four hours so what was the point?

 

"That man deserved it. He's gotta treat her with respek." She mumbled and Jon laughed at that. She reminded him of Arya, a much more lethal and tiny Arya. Well, more lethal than she was at that age. 

 

"My apologies, she's a bit of an aggressive one. My name's Elizabeth" the dark skinned woman said as she held a hand out for Jon to shake. He took it, giving her a small smile in return to her own. 

 

"What happened?" Jon looked back behind him to see a man he had only met once before making his way over. His demeanor was different, completely different than the day their truce was formed.  

 

Aegon Targaryen was just a few years older than Jon and he was Rhaegar's successor. The last time they met, he had been colder than the north. A seemingly emotionless man who stood behind his father with little to nothing to say. It was his eyes though, his eyes that truly made him dangerous. Observant and calculating and filled with a fire, a ruthlessness that made Jon think that he wouldn’t have hesitated in ending another man’s life if he was a threat. Every step he took, every move he made was calculated and precise. Not a single one of accident.

 

That man however, was gone. Or at least hidden beneath the surface. 

 

Aegon stopped before Elizabeth, he kissed his wife lightly on the cheek before taking Rhaena in his arms. 

 

"How is it that everyone else can be on good behavior tonight and yet here you are, causing a ruckus?" He asked, much warmer than Jon ever thought he could be. 

 

"She held a knife to poor Jon here." Elizabeth explained, holding what Jon assumed was Aegon's dagger to show him. The silver haired man frowned before turning back to face his daughter.

 

"Rhaena, that wasn't very nice of you. Jon, here, is to be your uncle, your family. You treat family with respect. You do not threaten them with knives." Aegon warned and Jon ignored the twitch of uncomfortability that surged inside him when he spoke the word family. Just a few days ago, the Targaryens were strangers and tomorrow they would be his family. 

 

Funny how fate worked. 

 

"Sorry Uncle Jon, won't happen again." the caramel skinned little girl promised, mouth still wrapped around her thumb. Jon smiled warmly at her, she and Arya would get along just fine.  

 

"It's alright little dove, no harm done." 

 

She smiled at him before kicking a little in her father's arms, signaling she wanted to be put down. Aegon listened and as soon as he did, she was tugging at Jon's pant leg once again. He smiled at her but took the hint and crouched down. 

 

"You seem nice, I trust you." 

 

"Well I hope so, wouldn't want to upset you especially with that in your hands." Jon said, pointing up at the dagger in her mother's fingers. Little Rhaena giggled loudly and he smiled, before he could respond to the sound of a bell ringing in the air interrupted. Jon stood and turned towards the sound to see a beautifully aged woman in the doorway of the dining room. All the guest went silent at the sight of her. 

 

She wore an elegant black dress, that flowed like water.  A crown of winter roses on her greyed silver hair. A warm smile on her lips and reassurance in her eyes. 

 

"I'm so glad you could all join us on the eve of such an important event, the eve of my only daughter's wedding with a man my son has ensured to me will treat her right.” Eyes turned to him but Jon didn’t flinch, only nodded towards the woman who he must’ve been Rhaella Targaryen. She smiled in his direction before turning back to the room. 

 

“This union will provide prosperity and peace to both our families within a short period of time, we will see an end to those who threaten our livelihoods and keep our children and their children safe for decades to come. With Fire and Blood, we will, I swear it.” 

 

The Targaryen Clan didn’t hesitate in repeating their mantra back at her with an overwhelming sense of unity.  

 

“And now, we welcome the pack to our weyr of dragons and our combined fire and vigor will prepare us for the winter to come. We will survive it, not only will we survive it, we will thrive in it. There are no lone wolves or stray dragons among us, our weyr has survived generations and so has the Stark’s pack but we are done surviving.  Now is a time to rise above, to prosper. We will not hide because of the enemies that lie beyond us any longer. We will flourish and when spring comes, we will be left standing. Stronger than ever before.” Rhaella finished and Jon quirked an eyebrow, he supposed everyone knew the Stark mantra but hearing it come from a Targaryen’s mouth made the situation all too real. 

 

The crowd around him, both Stark and Targaryen alike, erupted in cheers. 

 

“Winter is coming and Fire and Blood with it! ” 

 

More chants of victory surged throughout the room and Jon couldn’t deny the electricity that surged through his veins at the sound. Combing their mantras, huh? It wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. 

 

Once the room quieted down, Rhaella turned her attention to the spiraling staircase to the right of her. 

 

His gaze followed her own and when they landed on the sight, his breath hitched. 

 

Daenerys Targaryen lived up to the word of every single man Jon had ever encountered who spoke of her beauty. She stood there, in the middle of the steps with the whole room’s gaze on her, a true vision. Her silver hair was long and angelic, falling down her back in waves. A red silk dress clung to her figure like it was made for her. 

 

It probably was. 

 

A single winter rose, was tucked behind her ear and her violet gaz scanned the room until it landed on him. 

 

The smile she sent him made his heart flutter violently. 

 

Jon’s heart didn’t flutter. 

 

Nor did it flutter violently. 

 

She smiled at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. 

 

“Sorry I’m late to the evening’s festivities but there were a few things that required my attention. It’s lovely to see all the faces of the family I know and hopefully will come to know through this union.” She said, voice both soft and strong before making her way down the stairs. Eyes never leaving his. 

 

Jon could feel the stares of everyone around them but he didn’t care. Instead he took a few steps forward, just as she did to meet her in the middle. 

 

“I suppose you’re Mr. Stark.” She breathed out and Jon smiled to himself as she reached her hand out for him to take. He rejected the urge to correct her, he was a Stark now. Not a Snow. 

 

Gently, Jon took her hand in his own and brought it to his lips. Lingering much longer than necessary. He could’ve sworn, he felt her shiver under his touch. 

 

“Just Jon, if we’re to be married in the morning I figure to hell with the formalities.” He told her once he pulled away, not missing the way her gaze flickered from his lips to his eyes and back again. 

 

“I suppose so, then you should call me Dany.” She breathed out and Jon nodded. His eyes traveled over the soft delicate features of her face, taking in all that she was. She was shorter than him, even with her heels on. It was a rarity to meet a woman in heels who was shorter than him, being of his stature but a rarity he enjoyed nonetheless. She had beautiful pale violet eyes and full lips, such full lips. The faint splatter of freckles across her nose and cheeks, she was breathtaking. 

 

The ringing of a bell stole his attention away from his fiance and back to her mother. Out of the side of his eye, he saw a tense Rhaegar and his wife Elia standing in front of the staircase. 

 

“Now that all the greetings are out of the way, let’s eat.” 

 

~TS~

 

“You know you haven’t let go of my hand since we met?” Jon turned his attention to Daenerys who sat by his side. He shrugged, looking down at their conjoined hands in her lap. The silk of her dress was smooth beneath his knuckles.

 

“I’m aware, is that a problem?” He asked and she smiled, shaking her head softly as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Jon could see the haze spreading through his mind at the sight. It was true what they said, Targaryens were maddening. 

 

“No, not at all. It’s just something I’ve never really had the pleasure of experiencing” She told him honestly, her free hand moving to her glass before she brought it to her mouth. Jon fought the urge to lick his lips as he drank her wine once again. This woman was walking sin, everything about her excited him in a way he hadn’t felt before. From the gentle waves of her loose silver hair, to the light tan of her skin, the fullness of her heart shaped lips and the intensity of her light violet eyes. 

 

She was sin. Complete and utter sin.  

 

“You’re not what I imagined you to be Jon Stark.” She told him once she set the glass down and he quirked an eyebrow. 

 

“Enlighten me love, how so?”  His accent was stronger than usual, she was starting to get to him. Or maybe it was the ale. Probably both. 

 

“I don’t know, from all the stories I was picturing a man who’d be colder, crueler and maybe even a bit-”

 

“Detached.” 

 

She laughed, he must’ve guessed wrong. 

 

“I was going to say taller but that as well.” Jon rolled his eyes as her laughter rang beside him like the chime of church bells, captivating and beautiful. 

 

“Well, I’ve still got a few inches on you so I wouldn’t say I’m doing too bad.” He teased, only to be met by her darkening gaze and a wickedly suggestive grin taking the place of her soft smile. 

 

“Oh, I surely hope you do Mr. Stark. I surely hope you do.” His smile faded and he could see the lust clouding her eyes. He leaned forward and the sharp intake of her breath was something he hadn’t missed. 

 

“I can promise Ms. Targaryen, I will make it my life’s mission to exceed all expectations” He whispered in her ear, already feeling the heat radiate off her skin. When he pulled back, only to stare into her eyes. It was clear his words had the intended effect. Before either of them could say more, the sound of Gendry’s voice calling for his name interrupted him. 

 

Jon turned away and towards him and Rhaegar who were currently engaged in a discussion. 

 

He slipped into the conversation of territories and circumstances involving the alliance of the Baratheons with the Targaryens and Starks, not giving his fiance a second glance until dinner had concluded. Which was more difficult than he’d like to admit. 

 

As they stood, Daenerys reached for his wrist and pulled him towards her. 

 

“Meet me on the balcony at eleven o’clock.” She told him, before he could question her intent she was swept off by Talisa and Sansa. Something about getting a glimpse of her wedding dress before the big day. 

 

Seeing how easily his family molded with her own was something he hadn’t expected. He could hear the sound of childrens’ laughter as little Rickon played with the children of Aegon and Elizabeth as well as Rhaenys and Francis. There were so many of them, but from what Job  could gather, the ones that Rickon had taken the most liking towards were Jae, Brynden and Duncan. 

 

Jon could already tell they’d be a handful. 

 

“You like her don’t you?” 

 

Jon turned to his side to find his brother, Robb, standing next to him, a knowing smirk plastered over his lips. 

 

“Well I’m marrying her tomorrow so I would hope so.” 

 

Robb laughed before hitting him on the back a little too hard.

 

“No Jonny, I know that look. I've had that stupid look plastered on my face ever since I met Talisa. You got the look.” 

 

Jon furrowed his eyebrows at his older brother, the fuck was he on about? 

 

“What? That’s not the same th-” 

 

“It’s exactly the same thing. You don’t see it now but i can guarantee. Daenerys Targaryen will make an honest man out of you yet.” Robb shot him a sly grin before walking away towards Bran who was chatting up some blonde lad who led the wolves to the backyard earlier. Jon didn’t want to dwell on things, what he and Daenerys had was simple attraction. Maybe it could blossom into something more but he highly doubted it. 

 

Daenerys was beautiful and his body craved her but that was it, he’d be lucky if they could reach a mutual agreement or understanding in this marriage of theirs but falling in love with her? Falling in love with her gave him a whole new weakness, a new one for both their enemies to exploit against them. The only people Jon had ever allowed himself to love were his family. In this life, the more people you loved the more chances your enemies had to get to you. 

 

He would like to keep that number as small as possible. 

 

He had learned his lesson the first time. He didn’t need to suffer through it again. 

 

Dany was to be his wife in the morning by law, a part of his pack and hopefully it would be long lasting.  It’d be different when they were man and wife. Maybe he could love her then, she would be family. She was different too, the ones before her hadn’t fully understood the life he lived. Had an idealistic fantasy of escaping it, he let himself believe that too for awhile. 

 

A fool’s folly. 

 

But Daenerys had been cultivated in this life just as he. She understood or at least he hoped she would. 

 

He reached for the glass of ale he’d left on the table and brought it to his lips as he pushed those thoughts away. Finding comfort in the familiar burning liquid as it traveled down his throat. Robb’s words played in the back of his mind like a plague and Jon hated it. There wasn’t a look on his face, he just, he just looked like this. He couldn’t dwell on that right now, not when they were things that needed to be handled. 

 

Jon spotted Rhaegar out of the corner of his eye and made his way towards the older man. He couldn’t have been much older than his mid-forties maybe early fifties but still, his essence had seemed much more youthful than that. It startled Jon the first time he’d discovered that his own children were married with kids. From what he could gather, he and Elia married young. Around the age of sixteen and soon after, Rhaenys and Aegon followed. 

 

During his father’s reign, the Starks and Targaryens found themselves on opposite sides. What Jon now knew was that Aerys’ illness had driven him mad and pushing him into killing dozens of his own men and allies. Jon’s uncle and grandfather were caught in the crossfire and for years, the Targaryens were just as much their enemies as the Walkers. 

 

It was bloody and men fell like flies. 

 

It wasn’t until Aerys died and Rhaegar took over did the fighting stop. Jon didn’t think the Targaryens would survive it but somehow, Rhaegar had built them back up again. Gained the respect of those his father had lost and almost all their allies too. Jon knew that the mad king’s war as well as the Night King’s had left the Starks weak when he took over for Ned. 

 

They recruited as many as they could but it still wasn’t enough to have a holding over the Walkers. They had been at a standstill for years but Jon was sure they couldn’t withstand the Walkers much longer. Until Rhaegar approached him with a proposal. Now the size of men at their ranks had tripled, evening them out with the Lannisters/ Walkers combined. 

 

Rhaegar had this way of getting people to follow him, he was a man people looked to for guidance and for that he respected him. 

 

He didn’t particularly like him, he had broken his aunt’s heart in a way she had yet to truly recover from but he was a smart man and this marriage would help them all in the end. Even if Lyanna refused to see that now. 

 

“Jon Snow, it’s good to see you.” He smiled warmly in his direction, turning away from the man he was talking to who Jon now recognized as Gendry. How long have they been discussing whatever it was they were? 

 

“It’s good to see you too. I see you’ve met Gendry.” Jon replied, gesturing towards his friend. 

 

“Ah yes, Robert’s son. Just getting to know one another a bit more.”

 

Jon knew what that meant, Rhaegar was judging him. Seeing if he was truly their equal and whether or not he wanted the Baratheons’ on his side. Gendry’s face remained cool and collected and Jon assumed that was a good sign. 

 

“Where’s Daenerys?” Rhaegar asked him.

 

“She went off with my sisters, wedding details.” Jon answered and her brother nodded. It was than that this Elia Martell waltzed over in their direction, brown skin glistening in the moonlight as she did. A flash of something Jon didn’t want to think about too much ran through Rhaegar’s eyes. Jon looked over to Gendry and gestured for them to take their leave. 

 

“Well we’ll leave you two to it.” Jon began only to be met with Elia in his pathway, she held her hand up for both he and Gendry to stop. 

 

“No, this needs to be heard by the both of you. I’ve already sent Daenerys to the library along with your Arya, Aegon and Rhaenys. A discussion needs to be had and it needs to be had now.” Elia informed them, her brown eyes had grown hard and so had the rest of her expression. 

 

Jon’s eyebrows furrowed but he didn’t say anything, simply followed Elia as she lead the three men where they needed to be. 

 

No one said a word as they moved from the dining room to the family room, through the foyer and up one side of the winding staircase. The library was in the east wing at the very end of the hall and Jon felt the need to light a cigarette right then and there. He ran a hand along the side of his sleek black hair as Elia moved to open the door, revealing a large room. An incredible room. The fanciest fucking library he had ever been in. 

 

Jon stopped to take it all in, everything about it  was elegant. Books lined the well lit room’s walls, granite floor with painting on the ceiling. His gaze flickered over to the small oval table to the side of the room. 

 

Arya stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed defiantly. Daenerys holding herself as she looked out the window. A woman, dark haired with a similar skin tone to Elia seated at the table and Aegon pacing in front of one of the shelves. All were silent, too lost in thought to acknowledge the others he assumed. 

Once the door was closed, Gendry spoke first. Breaking the tense silence before it could take root. 

 

“What’s going on?” He asked as Elia stopped, taking a seat in the largest chair near the fireplace, Rhaegar moved to stand beside her. Gendry made his way over to Arya and Jon was glad to not see her move away. Aegon stopped pacing and Rhaenys looked to her mother, he took his cue and moved over to his fiance, she looked over at him but no emotion spread across her face. A cold icy feeling rippled through him but he didn’t dare dwell on it. 

 

“The Lannister and Walkers made their move. I have a man on the inside who has informed me that the wedding took place last night, they are now one step ahead of us. Nicholas and Cersei are wed, bounding their alliance. ” Elia said and Jon was perplexed. She had men of her own?

 

“How do you know that?” Arya  questioned and Daenerys answered. 

 

“The one thing that you can depend from the Lannisters is their ability to act quickly. They always repay their debts and with haste. They’ll want to make a move on us as soon as possible and most likely, it will be sooner rather than later.” She spoke, taking Jon by surprise. He fought against displaying it in his features.

 

“I suspect that Benjamin and Tywin have already started their plans. We have to be ready, double the men present at the wedding tomorrow morning and make sure everyone is warned. The Lannister and Walkers are now one and they won’t stop until we fall.” Elia told them and Jon nodded in agreement. He’d have to send word back Winterfell, maybe a few Targaryen men to double protection in the city and of their safehouse. 

 

“So what did we do after that?” Arya questioned. 

 

It was simple really.

 

“Make sure they fall first.”

 

~TS~

 

“You should send a warning out to your men, Rhaegar already sent Arthur and Arstan to warn the Dothraki and Unsullied in the city. You’re a long way from Winterfell but it’d be good to send people. The Lannisters won’t hesitate when they make their moves and the Walkers are known for the cold cruelty.” Daenerys said as she joined him on the balcony. 

 

Their meeting ended shortly after they went over details of the wedding once again. Rhaegar had phone calls to make and Gendry and Arya headed back to the city to warn the Baratheons and the remaining Starks as well as Aegon and Rhaenys who had to warn both the Baudelaires and Reeds. Elizabeth and Francis’ families, up and coming but strong nonetheless and valued allies. 

 

“I did, Arya and Gendry will get the word out and a few of your brother’s men are behind them.” He spoke, gaze never leaving the gardens below. Members from the party had found their way to the gardens, not many but Jon could see Robb and Talisa growing rather...intimate behind the rose bushes. He turned away, it was not something he wanted to bare witness to. 

 

Jon looked away and towards Daenerys who’s gaze was trained on the moon above them. They were on the terrace of her room, Jon needed a place to think after their meeting and Daenerys lead him here. 

 

“I read somewhere that a full moon is good luck.” She said, turning towards him. Maybe Jon should’ve been courteous and engaged in conversation that would lead to the inevitable. But he was stressed and worried and overthinking and she was beautiful and would soon be his, forever. 

 

He didn’t say anything, just grabbed her by the hand and pulled her against him. 

 

“Jon” She breathed out but he shook his head. 

 

“No, just be with me alright.” He murmured quietly against her lips and she nodded before closing the distance.  

 

He kissed her deeply, holding her to him as her hands laced themselves in his black curls. 

 

Kissing Daenerys Targaryen was not something he expected, the feeling that bubbled in his chest sent warning light in his brain but he ignored it. Moving to grip her ass with both his hands, she moaned into his mouth at the feel of his hands against her clothed flesh. 

 

Her hands traveled to his dress shirt, unbuttoning it with ease before shoving it off with intense need. He pulled away to let it fall, leaving him shirtless as his left hand reached for her face and his right traveled up to her waist. He walked them backwards towards the bed and he stopped once he felt her hit the edge. 

 

He tore his lips away from her and he didn’t need to tell her to take off her dress. She was already slipping it from her shoulders and letting the smooth fabric fall to her feet. 

 

Jon’s gaze fluttered over her and the heat in his abdomen only grew at the sight. She was just what he thought she’d be, better than whatever his imagination could dream up. Her body curved like a work of art, breasts that looked like they’d fit into his hands perfectly. A small waist with little weight to her tummy. Her hips flowed out like a rose in bloom and her thighs, gods he wanted her.

 

He pulled her back into him for a brief kiss before moving past her lips and to her ear. 

 

“Let me taste you?” He whispered and he felt  her breath in sharply. Slowly Jon pulled back to face her, a look of shock and what he assumed to be arousal spread across her features. 

 

She nodded and that was all the invitation Jon needed before kissing her again. Letting her fall onto the bed and leaving his arms to hold her. Her knee lied between his legs and Jon pushed away the feel of it against him. 

 

He kissed down her skin, from her neck to her navel and he savored her reaction. 

 

Every shutter and breath in anticipation, he loved it. Lived for it.

 

He placed a kiss above her clothed heat and she sighed, “stop fucking around if you’re gonn-oh!” 

 

Jon pulled her panties to the side, not wasting time on foreplay before he spread her lips apart a licked a stripe up her warmth. She squirmed and Jon smiled before attaching his lips to her nub, sucking on it like his life depended on it. Daenerys cried out from above him as his lips moved relentlessly against her womanhood. 

 

He pulled away and Daenerys whined out. 

 

“No, please no. Don’t stop.” She breathed out but he had no intention of ever stopping. 

 

Two of his fingers circled around her whole before he plunged them both into her. Fuck, she was tight and wet. So fucking wet. 

 

“Jon I-ah!” 

 

His tongue swirled around her clit and Daenerys’ hands entangled themselves in his hair. She yanked on his inky curls and Jon groaned, vibrating against her warmth causing another cry to leave his fiance’s lips. 

 

“Fuck! Fuck! Jon” 

 

She breathed his name out like a prayer as his mouth worked wonders. 

 

A familiar feeling grew within her stomach, much quicker and much stronger than before. 

 

“Jon I-fuck!” 

 

She couldn’t get a word out or comprehend a single thought when her orgasm crashed over her body. She was never one to scream, no one had ever-oh fuck. 

 

A hoarse scream left her and Jon smiled against her lips. Slowly tracing over her clit as she rode out her orgasm, thigh shaking against the sides of his face. 

 

Her body went limp as Jon sat up, taking a good look at her. The sweat that gently covered her body glistened under the moonlight and my gods, she was beautiful. 

 

And exhausted. 

 

“We don’t have to-” Daenerys shook her head, stopping the words in his throat. 

 

Slowly she opened the legs that had clamped shut and bit her lip. Jon’s mind went hazy as she trailed a careful finger down the side of her body. 

 

“Come ‘ere baby. Come ‘ere.” She whispered, violet eyes boring into his grey. 

 

He nodded, unbuckling his jeans and pulling them down with both his boxers. Daenerys had shifted her body to the head of the bed and Jon followed her lead. Making himself comfortable between her legs. 

 

He rubbed against her heat, a small whimper leaving the woman he was going to marry as he did so. 

 

“Let me know if it hurts okay.” he told her and she nodded. 

 

“It won’t.” 

 

With that, he pushed inside. Both of them releasing a deep groan at his actions. This was good, this was better than good. 

 

He forced himself to wait as she adjusted to his size. Her eyes clamped shut and he couldn’t resist the urge to bend down and kiss her again. 

 

When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open and something inside him bloomed as he looked down at her. A warmth encapsulated his being as she stared at him. The intimacy in the moment, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. 

 

“Jon.” She mumbled and he nodded, still trying to make sense of the thoughts racing through his mind. 

 

“Move.” She whispered. 

 

“As you wish.” 

 

He moved within her like second nature. She responded to every kiss and touch perfectly and he’s ashamed to say he didn’t last as long as he hoped. 

 

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated within a few minutes, Daenerys pulled him down to her in another kiss, he swallowed her cry of pleasure in his lips and only when she fell apart for the second time did he allow himself to do the same. 

 

“I’m gonna-” 

 

“I know” 

 

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he emptied himself into her. In the back of his mind, fear sparked but he didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. 

 

He was always scared of creating bastards but the remembrance of who she was to him eased his mind. 

 

His wife and soon, maybe the mother of his child. 

 

Her legs loosened their grip and Jon pulled out, seething at the sensation of the cool air that contrasted her heat. 

 

He turned over, lying by her side as she pulled the silk sheets from her side over the two of them. It was nice, this was nice. 

 

Jon pulled her close to him, her head on his naked chest and leg sprawled over his hips as he stared up at the ceiling. He hadn’t noticed the paintings until now. 

 

“Who painted those?” He asked, fingertips tracing patterns Daenerys back lazily. 

 

“I did, when I was younger, my mother taught me to paint. I’d spend hours and hours watching her until one day she got me my own canvas. From that day on, all I wanted to do was paint, lose myself in the world of own creation.” He didn’t miss the somberness in her tone as she spoke. She and her mother must not have been on the best terms he supposed.

 

“What happened?” He asked softly, hoping he wasn’t crossing a line. 

 

“My father did.” She sighed, sinking a bit more into his embrace. 

 

“He transformed into this monster of a man, hateful and blinded by the need to kill those around him at all times. He almost beat the life out of her y’know?” 

 

Jon didn’t know. He had never thought that Aerys’ own family would be the ones to suffer his wrath the most. 

 

“And she loved him. Still loves him and I will never understand it. As our world fell apart and as me and Rhaegar were forced to pick up the pieces of the mess he left behind. I suppose I lost the inspiration to create another world when there was so much that needed to be done in my own. “ 

 

He wanted to know more, he wanted to know everything if she’d let him. 

 

“When did you paint those? How-?” 

 

“You ask a lot of questions Jon Snow.” She breathed, propping herself up on her elbow to face him. Hair falling to the side, lips pursed and eyes trained on him. Fuck, how could anyone just look like that?

 

“No more questions tonight. We have the rest of our lives for me to reveal the answers.” She whispered, leaning in and closing the gap between them once again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what do you think? (what kind of accents did you picture? I pictured brooklyn but thats just me)


	2. The Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after and the ceremony that follows...

**GENDRY**

 

Two hours. 

 

Thats how long it’s been since Gendry had heard Arya mutter a single word and it wasn’t even in his direction. Before that, it had been three days. Three days of baerly hearing her, three days of not touching her and three days of barely seeing her and when he did, she never acknowledged his presence. He hated it, he hated it more than anything in this world. Arya was never quiet, she always had an opinion, always something and usually too much to say but now she was dead silent.  She had never been like this, not around him at least. 

 

It was fucking insufferable. Where was the yelling? The outrage? The name calling? Where was the fight that he knew was bound to come ever since Jon announced the proposal? Which was not how Gendry wanted it to be done, he wanted to do it right. Take her aside to the lake on the outskirts of Winterfell where they had their first kiss (and fight).  

 

He wanted to ask her real proper, even got a ring. He thought Jon would understand that but he was wrong. He loved him like a brother but sometimes, when it came to anything outside of business, he could be tone deaf. 

 

She found out when he wasn’t even there and when she confronted him about it, he had never seen her so angry. The type of anger were tears leaked from her eyes out of pure unadulterated frustration and hurt.  She was so fucking angry, screaming and throwing things. Ruining Robert’s good china but Gendry didn’t really give a damn about that. 

 

He had never seen her so hurt. 

 

He hated Jon for it, just a little. He had half a mind to knock his teeth out the next time he saw him but decided against it, he was still Arya’s favorite whether she wanted to admit it or not. He didn’t need another reason to get on her bad side. He was her brother and in every way besides blood, he was his too. 

 

She didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself before she stormed out of Rober-his house. Leaving him just as frustrated, even more confused and surrounded by broken porcelain. 

 

This was the first time they had been alone together since then and she didn’t have a word to say. 

 

Somehow, that was worse than the screaming and shattered glass. 

 

“Are you just not gonna talk to me for the rest of our lives or what?!” 

 

He already sounded angry and he was, but not at her. Still, he needed something, some kind of reaction. Arya didn’t bother reacting to the people she didn’t care for and he just needed to know that she still cared. That she still loved him in spite of all this. 

 

“For fucks sake, Aryy! Come on, yell at me, tell me I’m being stupid or something. Just stop whatever this is. I’m begging ya’.” 

 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Arya turn to look at him, brown eyes full of the fierceness he had loved so much. She stared him down and Gendry felt hot under her gaze. He was waiting for it, smirking a little to himself at the thought. 

 

He wasn’t a fan of fighting with the woman he loved, but it’s what they did. They fought intensely and then they made up within ten minutes just as intensely and he’d by lying if he said he wasn’t a fan of the making up part. More importantly, they’d be back to being them again and being together. 

 

That’s all he wanted. 

 

She opened her mouth but froze, closing it as quickly as it had opened and turning back to face the window.  

 

“Damn it Arya!” He screamed in frustration, hitting the steering wheel violently. 

 

“Why are you mad at me? If anything I should be mad at you for all this!” She screamed back and Gendry did a good job of hiding the relief that flooded through his system. 

 

“Then be mad at me! Right now, you’re keeping all that shit inside and its not doing us any good!” 

 

“You want me to scream at you! Tell you how much of an idiot you are! Fine, you’re an idiot Gendry! A fucking idiot! I’ve told you much I hate this life-” 

 

“I know.” 

 

“I’ve told you much this has consumed my family and that I didn’t want that for my future Gendry, for our future. I told ya’ and yet here we are, doing the exact opposite, with you as the head of the fucking Baratheons, Gendry. Gods, ya’ shouldn’t have taken his offer, you shouldn’t have. Should’ve let the whole fucking house die with him.” 

 

“You think I didn’t want to?! That I choose thi-” 

 

“Well what else am I supposed to think?! He named you his sole heir Gendry. All of Robert’s shit is about to become your shit! All the territory, the men and the fucking crime! You’re about to be the head of a crime family and for what?! Why couldn’t you have just let it die?! `` 

 

“Its not dying Arya! Even if I didn’t take this, it wouldn’t have-it wouldn’t have died.” 

 

She went silent again as surprise filled her and Gendry sighed, turning to pull the car over. If they were going to have this conversation now, he couldn’t be driving. Might fuck around and kill them out of distracted emotion. He pulled the keys from the ignition and for a minute, he just sat there. Trying to collect his thoughts as Arry turned to him, giving him her undivided attention.

 

“What do you mean it’s not dying? Robert don’t got anymore ki-” 

 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He said, turning his face to face her. 

 

“He does. He has so many fucking kids with women he can’t even remember fucking and those kids, most of them are living in shit holes with shitty people. He didn’t even bother finding the others, I practically dropped in front of his feet and he took it as if it were enough.” Robert was a piece of shit but those kids, growing up as fosters with people who were just using ‘em for the government paycheck, they deserved better than that. Gendry had suffered it and he’d be damned if he let his brothers and sisters go through the same thing. The family had more than enough money to do right by ‘em, even if by having to do right, he’s gotta loosen his morals a bit.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

 

“I didn’t know for sure and that kind of thing getting out could put them all in danger. Bu-” 

 

“What do you mean you didn’t know for sure?!”

 

“God dammit Arry, can you let me fucking finish?!” 

 

She huffed, crossing her arms in defiance but not uttering another word. 

 

“Like I was saying, I didn’t know for sure but speculation was enough. Stannis confirmed it a few days ago and since then I’ve been working on finding ‘em. All fifteen of my brothers and sisters, I’ve only found three. My older sister Mya, she’s coming down from the Westerlands to meet with me. I need her out of Lannister territory before this gets out. And the twins, Riley and Roy, lived in the same fucking city in a shitty orphanage. I’ve had Mary Louise get them out of there, they live a few houses down from me with a nanny I’ve hired. Robert doesn’t know and he doesn’t need to. He’s caused enough shit” 

 

“Gendry, you can’t take all this on alone. Fifteen kids i-” 

 

“There not all kids.” 

 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s a lot for anyone to take on and are you sure you can handle the pressure of this and became the head of the family at the same time?” 

 

“This isn’t a choice Arry. Their my family and I need them just as much as they need me.” 

 

“You can’t do all this alone.” 

 

“I’m not.” He reached for one of her hands and brought the knuckles to his lips.

 

He released it, “I was hoping that this would be under better circumstances but fuck it.” He moved, digging into the pocket of the suit pants he still hadn’t grown accustom to.  
  
When he pulled the iron band he spent weeks forging out, he took in a shaky breath before turning back to face her. Arya’s eyes widened, shock seeping into her. 

 

“I’m not good with words Arry but I love you and I know you love me no matter how much your little stubborn ass likes to deny it.” She laughed, teary eyed and all and he couldn’t stop the face splitting grin that spread across his face at the sound. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I’ve wanted to since the day I met you and your brother had to punch me for staring too hard. I know this isn’t the life you wanted, but it's the only life I got. Just give me time to prove to you that this doesn’t have to-” 

 

She kissed him, shutting him up before he could start babbling. Arya’s lips were warm against his own, the type of warmth that sunk into his soul. Her hands gripped his face for dear life and his moved to pull her closer by the waist, almost dropping the ring in the process. He had half a mind to pull her in his lap and let her ride him until they were both seeing stars. 

 

When she pulled away, she was smiling. Wolfish and cheeky, just the way he liked it. 

 

“You talk to damn much Waters.” She whispered and he smiled. 

 

“It’s Baratheon now Ms. Stark.” 

 

“Mrs.” She corrected and Gendry felt his heart clench

 

“What?” 

 

Arry bit her lip, smiling at him. “Its Mrs. now, Mrs. Baratheon.”  

 

“Arya…” 

 

“I still don’t like this life. I never will. But this is who we are, it’s who we’ve always been. You need me and I’m there. I love you.” 

 

This was probably the most sentimental he’d ever seen her. And he couldn’t pretend that there weren't any tears building behind his eyes. He pulled her close, kissing her with something fierce in his chest. She moaned into him and fuck it, maybe he should pull her into his lap.

 

She pulled away before he could, “we still gotta get to Winterfell. Later.” She whispered through a heady gaze. Gendry nodded, licking his lips before remembering the ring in his hand. 

 

“Give me your hand Arry.” He mumbled and she furrowed her brow before remembering what had just happened. Slowly she slipped her hand into his, letting him push the iron onto her finger.   


“Sevens, Gendry this is so…” she trailed, taking in the bronze wolf and stag he spent weeks forging so they intertwined around the small amber stone perfectly. It was unusual but Aryy wasn’t a girl who deserved the usual. She needed something that represented her, that she’d wear out of pride not obligation.

 

Her silence was making him question his choice to make her ring though. Maybe he should’ve just gone to a jeweler and bought it like any other normal person. 

 

“You like it?” 

 

Arya looked at him and fuck, was she going to cry?

 

“Arya I-”

 

“I love it.” She whispered and the relief that flooded through him was unlike any other. 

 

They sat like that, staring at each other in a moment of intimacy that they could only reserve for one another.   
  
“We should go, we still have to warn the others.” Her words snapped him out of the trance she put him in and he nodded. 

 

“Fuck Gendry, you got me out here being all soft and shit” She said, punching him in the shoulder as he laughed before igniting the engine. 

  
  
  


**JON**

 

“We need to get out of bed at some point, you do know that right?” A lazy smile spread across Jon’s face as he looked down at the woman pressed against his chest. Absentmindedly, his hand reached for her chin, pulling it up so her lips could meet his own. Soft and slow their lips moved together, he never enjoyed kissing a woman as much as he did her. It had always been a means to an end, a way to shut them up or pull them in towards what they both really wanted. Never a simple pleasure, not like this. 

 

It was a strange feeling to come to terms with it. The fact that he wanted to be in her presence, to not only fuck her but to kiss her and hear the sound of her voice. It was jarring for a man like him. 

 

Slowly he pulled away, a starry look in her eyes once they fluttered open.

 

“I know.”

 

It was the early morning, the sun had barely risen. After they had worn themselves out, she entertained his questions for hours before drifting to sleep. It was probably the longest conversation he had with a woman that wasn’t about business in years. A cold crippling feeling rose up in his chest at the realization. Jon shook his head, pushing the anxiety away as he disentangled himself from her.

 

He sat up, pulling his boxers on, the soft hues of the sun pouring into their room. Jon turned his head, glancing back at Daenerys who now stood with her back to him. He could feel heat flush through him at the sight, she was a masterpiece. 

 

“Missandei and Irri should be here soon, my mother is a bit superstitious about these things. The groom isn’t supposed to see the bride the day of the wedding you know.” She told him as he made his way over  as she pulled a silk pink robe onto her skin. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her against him as his lips took control and kissed down the exposed skin of her neck. 

 

She sighed as his right hand traveled down further, “I’m not one for superstitions.” He mumbled between kisses, eyes flashing open to watch her lips part in the mirror as he parted her lower lips with his fingers, circling the already building wetness. 

 

“Fuck...” She groaned, drawled out into his ear and that sound shouldn’t have been as intoxicating as it was. 

 

Just as her breathing grew heavy and her legs began to twitch above him, a knock sounded and Jon sighed. He didn’t stop, “who is it?” His hand moved to wrap around Daenerys' mouth to save her the embarrassment of the noises she made being heard by whoever lied outside that door. 

 

“It’s Rickon, Miss Rhaella sent me to wake you. Uncle Ben is here to officiate.” His hand stopped and pulled from her warmth at the sound of his little brother. He didn’t anticipate the groan leaving Dany’s mouth as soon as his hand fell, her eyes widened when she realized what she had done. 

 

“You lot alright?” 

 

“We’re fine Rickon, just give us a minute!” He told him, voice straining more than it normally. He could sense the shit eating grin on his brother’s face. 

 

“It’s a bit improper to get the bride knocked up the day before the wedding isn’t it Jonny?” 

 

“GO!” He screamed, heat welling up his neck as irritation and slight embarrassment rose as well.

 

The little shit’s laughter made Jon snarl as he walked away. 

 

He looked away from the door to see a simpering Dany, amusement written all over her face as she held her own hand over her mouth. His eyes narrowed at her, “You think this is funny?” 

 

“A bit yeah.” She smiled and Jon could feel his nose twitch. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.” She told him and he ignored the little well in his heart as she moved closer and kissed him. Before he could even get the chance to deepen it, she pulled away.  Turning around and bending over, and fuck, that was his wife. His for the rest of their lives, he couldn’t pretend the idea didn’t appeal to him more after the night they shared. 

 

When she turned back around, she chucked his shirt in his face snapping him out of his lustful gaze. 

 

“Get dressed, there’s a wedding to be had and business to be conducted. Your family is waiting.” She told him, the same cool exterior from the night before back on her features and Jon ignored the twinge of disappointment he felt. He didn’t like to take instructions but he listened to her words. Slipping back into the discarded clothing that had lied on the floor around them. 

 

When he turned to leave, she stopped him. 

 

“I told you to get dressed Jon, not to leave.”  His eyes studied her as her hand traveled up her arm, 

 

“Finish what you started.” She looked down at his lips and sevens sake, this woman...

 

He moved to pick her up before throwing her down on the bed behind them.

 

“I’m not the kind of man that gets ordered around love.” He said, leering down at her. Her playful smirk didn’t falter, just widened. 

 

“Prove it.” 

 

 **RHAEGAR**   


“How many guests?” Rhaegar asked, not looking up at Varys as he studied the blueprints of the building once again to see if he had left any spots blind. 

 

“Including the added Dothraki and Sevens Son, two hundred and six. Two armed guards posted at every possible entrance, even on opposite sides of every available window. Drogo has twenty of his men roaming the grounds along with thirty of Daario’s seven sons and the forty Unsullied you pulled from the city. All under Grey Worm’s command. We have kept a vigilant eye on all possible threats, the Lannisters won’t strike here. It’d be suicide” 

 

“Do we have poison testers for the food?” Rhaegar asked, ignoring Varys’ assurances. The spider was one of his most trusted allies but he was also one of his most dangerous. Not above betraying those loyal to him in the past, he had earned Rhaegar’s trust years ago but a man in power, could never put his faith in anyone but himself and his family. 

 

“Yes, Viserys’ brought traitors from Essos upon his arrival with the Dothraki.” His brother must’ve had more than enough of his own fun with them for him to forfeit his play things for this wedding. He more than likely had grown bored with the subjects and those poor fools were probably craving death at this point. 

 

“Have Elia’s men come?” 

 

“No but they will be shortly.” 

 

“Good, pair them with the sevens son. I don’t trust Daario and I never will.”  A sell sword swore loyalty to no man, but Rhaegar needed men and they were the closest option.   
  
“Of course sir.” 

 

“And the men in the city?” He had stationed them at their properties within King’s Landing, no one knew where the Lannisters would strike and it was imperative that they were covered on all fronts. 

 

“Exactly where you need them. Ranks from both Elizabeth’s and Francis’s family have come pouring in.” 

 

“And the Tyrells.” 

 

“Too far inland to send ranks, Olenna extends her apologies.” 

 

Rhaegar nods, “Where is my brother?”   


“Last I saw of him, he was screaming at a new recruit for bumping into him-” Rhagar resists the urge to roll his eyes at the information ”-but that was hours ago sir.”  His brother could be anywhere now. 

 

“Where’s Arianne?” He could feel a small twinge of anxiety rise in his throat at the thought of the two of them crossing paths after their last encounter. He didn’t need that kind of scene today. 

 

“She arrived half an hour ago, I presume she’s with the rest of the bridal party.”   
  
“Don’t presume Varys, make sure and find my brother. Make sure the two of them are not alone together or near each other for that matter, understood?” 

 

Varys nodded, knowing all too well of what the two of them crossing paths could incite.  “Of course sir, we already have one assasination attempt to worry about. We don’t need another.” 

 

**DANY**

 

“You look beautiful.” Daenerys smiled, fingertips tracing over the delicate fabric of her mother’s dress. Hand sewn silk, a warmth to the white almost silver fabric that hugged her body. She felt light and beautiful, a rarity in her life but one she would relish in for as long as possible. Not the beauty aspect of course but the lightness, the ease was an unfamiliar feeling. 

 

“She’s right, Jon’s a lucky man I can tell you that.” Arianne told her, eyes tracing over her friend with a slight smile on her face. Champagne glass in hand as she glided through the room like the otherworldly beauty she is, encased in the garnet of Dany’s bridesmaids dresses. In short Art-Deco fashion, silver beading intricately sewn into them. Black kitten heels on her feet. Arianne’s hair was long and flowing, waved to perfection as it fell to the side of her face. Both her lipstick and nails matched the dress, she had it tailored to fit snug around her body. She looked like a dream, as if she belonged on the carpet somewhere or on a magazine cover. Then again, Arianne almost always looked like that.  

 

“Well obviously.’ Arianne laughed, bright and beautiful and Dany couldn’t help to mirror her own expression. 

 

“Enough talk, turn around so you can see how beautiful you are.” Margaery announced from the couch where she sat next to Elizabeth. Dressed in the same as Arianne, except her dark hair had been thrown up into a ‘messy’ up-do that framed her features perfectly. A lighter shade of lipstick on her lips, barely any makeup at all but then again, the woman in Highgarden preferred it that way. Dany nodded before slowly turning herself around on the platform she stood on. 

 

Her breathing hitched at the sight, “oh wow.” 

 

She looked like her mother.  It fit her like a glove, simple and beautiful A sweetheart neckline that was held up by thin straps, the bodice hugged her waist before gently flowing out. It had been altered slightly to fit her better but as Dany’s eyes traced over herself, she felt like a queen in that moment. Everything her mother was, she reached for Rhaella’s hand pulling it closer to her chest before placing a light kiss on her mother’s knuckles. Everything was perfect, from the intricate Dothraki braids Irri had done to the sky blue flapper heels her mother had insisted on her wearing. 

 

“Told you Jon was a lucky man love,” Arianne said as tears gathered in Dany’s eyes. An overwhelming feeling consumed her in that moment. All the power she had witnessed in her mother, her grandmother, her sisters, it felt like it was her own in this moment. She was a Targaryen, ushering in a new age for her family and this dress, this day signified it and so much more. 

 

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Dany’s turned her head to face her sister, well actually her niece but sister was a better word to describe their relationship. Rhaenys had cut her into a short bob recently and Daenerys was still trying to get used to it. For so long Dany had thought she had always been the image of Elia but now, her resemblance to Rhaegar had been more evident than ever. 

 

She reached around her neck and pulled the golden locket their Uncle Oberyn (her brother in -law) had given her for her eighteenth birthday when Dany was fifteen. He had given her a silver one a few months later on her own birthday, she had lost it within a week. 

 

“Rhae, I can’t-”

 

“Just for the day. It would complete the look.” She assured her and Dany gave her a watery smile. It was one of Rhaenys’ most prized possessions and her giving it to the blonde was more than just borrowing jewelry. Dany took the necklace into her hands gingerly, taking a deep breath before moving to wrap it around her neck and clasp it safely. Adjusting it slightly so that it lay just below her clavicle.

 

She had it all now, something old, something borrowed, something new and something blue. 

 

“You’re absolutely breathtaking my love.” Rhaella told her, giving her hand a squeeze. The words meant more than she would ever know. 

 

“Thank you.”  Her words are softer and full of more emotion than she thought possible. 

 

Rhaella smiled and Dany hoped she would be as beautiful as her as time went on, the silver of her hair had turned grey with age but she still held the grace and beauty of a beloved monarch after all these years. Dressed in a gentle pale pink dress with a crown of blushed roses atop her head.  The perfect picture of all Dany had ever aspired to be and more than anything, she wanted to make her proud. 

 

"As beautiful as this moment is, grandmother says it’s time to take our places. The boys are waiting in the hall to lead us towards the ballroom and the last of the guests have taken their seats." Margaery told her, pulling Dany from her thoughts and towards her other bridesmaid. 

 

"Will Arya be joining us?" Rhaella had thought it'd be a good idea to have one of the Stark girls act as Dany's eighth and final bridesmaid. A way to further welcome them into the bloodline and to cement their relationship as allies plus Elizabeth’s unexpected pregnancy had made fitting into her bridesmaid dress an impossibility. 

 

"No, her sister Sansa will take her place. Arya isn't here yet, she and Gendry will be making a late arrival for the reception. Sansa's in the hall " Dany nodded as Margaery reached a hand out to help her off the pedestal alongside her mother. Rhaella arm outstretched for Dany to loop her own in. 

 

“Are you ready my little dragon?”

 

She could feel her heart pounding against her rib cage as she stared at the door, each of her bridesmaids filing out one by one. She didn’t know much of the future, she didn’t know much about her husband outside of the business they were in and the fact that he was an excellent lover. But that was to be expected, all Dany knew was that her future was on the other side of that door and she had the support of everyone she had ever loved there with it. 

  
As Dany turned to her mother, a familiar and welcomed comfort washed over her at the sight of Rhaella’s smile. 

 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

 

**JON**

 

Jon adjusted himself at the altar, despite the cool demeanor plastered over his face he could feel his palms sweat as he waited . Marriage was never something at the front of his mind in all this, he had been a clever but impulsive child. Always focused on the now rather than what lay ahead and then the war came and it was a matter of survival. After the war, he returned to a position he thought would rightfully belong to his brother who came back too scarred from battle to take it on. He had his share of loves, he had his share of loss and yet the thought of standing where he stood, even if it was just to further his family’s position, shook him to his core. 

 

He had survived. All of it, he was still standing ready to wed the most beautiful he had ever laid eyes on in a ceremony surrounded by the only people he held dear and those he would grow to hold dear. That in itself, was a victory. A reminder that he was still alive after it all, that he survived. 

 

He had never been in a ballroom before, it was beautiful and felt like a place of worship. Angels painted on the ceiling and a chandelier that was worth more than some lives hung from the center. There was no light emitting from it, the windows that circled the back with a view of the gardens. The lighting was perfect, Jon looked out into the crowd. Faces familiar and faces he had never seen cloaked in ambient light. A bit unsettling to have all their eyes on him, or maybe it was just the altar with the vines and white roses interlaced in the wood with some white fabric hanging from it in an upside down rainbow. It was extravagant but then again, the Targaryens never did anything with small intentions let alone a small execution. 

 

The sound of gentle violins threw him from his mind and he shook his head, gathering himself as his eyes trained on the end of the aisle. 

 

Bran and Sansa were first and Jon’s heart warmed a bit at the sight. She looked beautiful in her dress, red hair set aflame by the sun. Bran’s suit was almost identical to his own, three piece and black which to be fair was their normal attire but usually in plaid and with their stark grey caps. The absence of those details made a difference, the only difference between him and Bran were the undershirts, his was white like all his groomsmen while he had opted for black. Targaryen black. 

 

Then his brother Robb, a cheeky grin on his face once he caught sight of Talisa in the crowd, Jon smiled a bit at the action. He was escorting Daenerys’ niece, Rhaenys. Almost equally as beautiful as her aunt with tan brown skin and black hair that stopped just below her chin, her mother’s features shined through but whereas Elia commanded warmth and gentleness in her presence, Rhaenys commanded her father’s untouchable power. 

 

Next came Missandei Velgaris, Daenerys’s right hand alongside his long time friend, almost brother Grenn. They had met in the war and their loyalty to one another had never wavered since then. 

 

The infamous Arianne Martell escorted by his little brother Rickon was a sight that almost made Jon laugh when they came. Rickon had a stupid smile on his face and Arianne’s face was stone but he could see the irriation in her eyes. 

 

Then came Margaery Tyrell, as lethal as she was beautiful being escorted by Sam who looked like he was about to shit himself any second. He wondered if she and Robb had exchanged words, he hoped not. 

 

After the two was Edd, looking more dapper than Jon had ever seen him, alongside a beautiful and elusive dothraki woman named Irri. 

 

Following the two came Pyp, looking cleaner than Jon thought possible alongside Doreah, another Dothraki woman Jon wasn’t familiar with. 

 

Finally...Rhaella and Viserys? Adorned in soft pink dress and a welcoming smile, her long silver hair loose with a crown of equally pink roses on her head. Viserys stood beside her in a blood red suit, a black undershirt with a few buttons undone with his hair thrown into a ponytail and a vial of something around his neck. Sevens sake, was that blood? Jon couldn’t say he’d be too surprised if it was. 

 

The two stopped in front of him and Rhaella moved to take his hand, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. Or so he thought. 

 

“I thank you for your alliance but harm my daughter and you will live to regret it.” She whispered, her tone neutral as some semblance of shock filled Jon. He shouldn’t have been surprised considering she had survived Aerys Targaryen and she was a dragon after all but still, that’s what the threat did.  She was so nurturing, her ability to harm hadn’t crossed his mind. Yet who wouldn’t willingly inflict harm on those who did the same to their children. She pulled away with a soft smile on her face and allowed Viserys, who had been staring at him with a cold, calculative expression until that point, to lead her towards the front row where their seats awaited. 

 

The music shifted to something softer and bless the seven…

 

Jon stared at her, mouth parted agape as he took her in, pupils dilated as Rhaegar lead her towards him. The dress she wore was simple, soft silk that flowed like water against her body. It was white but not quite, a little darker than that. Somewhere between a white and silvery champagne and it made her skin glow in comparison. The sun made her look like some kind of angel the maiden sent down from above, two braids pulled back her hair to show her face and the rest of the silver tresses flowing freely. A bouquet of dusk and winter roses in her hand. 

  


She was ethereal. 

 

Rhaegar nodded his respect to him as they stopped in front of the altar. He was quiet but the power he radiated was just as present as ever. His suit was the same black as Jon's but with a silver undershirt and a watch tucked within his own. He moved to kiss Dany on her forehead gently before moving away, allowing Jon to take her hands. Her palms were soft and cool and the relief that washed over him at her touch was alarming. 

 

The priest said something but Jon wasn't listening, just staring at her. The soft violet hue of her eyes, the small specks of gold and blue within them. He looked at her and wondered how she was real? A notion that had never crossed his mind about anyone.

 

“We are here today to witness the sacred union of Jon Stark, Head of The Stark Household and Daenerys Targaryen of The Targaryen Household, under the light of the seven.” 

 

Daenerys rubbed the back of his palms comfortingly, her attention had turned towards his Uncle Benjen, he had taken the cloth years ago for reasons no one understood. Jon was glad to have him here, Ned couldn’t...Jon was grateful for Benjen's presence.

 

“Jon Stark, wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife to live together after the Seven's ordinance in the Holy Estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her? Comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others. Keep thee only unto her as long as you both shall live?" 

 

The vow held the weight of the future, not just their own but that of the families’ they had been sworn to protect since they’re birth. 

 

He’d bear it, as he always had. For them he’d do it without question. 

 

"In the name of the Seven, I, Jon Stark, take you, Daenerys Targaryen, to be my wife. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health. To love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

She smiled at him and once he finished, he didn’t bother fighting the instinct to kiss her knuckles with a gentle affection he rarely shared with the world. The honor of his word present in his gaze, letting her know with all he could that he meant every word and he would try to deliver on the promise he had made. For her. For their blood

 

“Daenerys Targaryen, wilt thou take this man to be thy wedded husband to live together after the Seven's ordinance in the Holy Estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love him? Comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep thee only unto him as long as you both shall live?" 

 

"In the name of the Seven, I, Daenerys Targaryen, take you, Jon Snow, to be my husband. To have and to hold from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health. To love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

She spoke with confidence, with assurance and unfaltering certainty. She meant every word, just as he did. They were bound together, no matter what lied ahead they would face it together, hopefully as equals in all of it. Even if they didn’t uphold the holiness of this vow, they would everything else. 

“With the power vested in me by the light of the seven, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” He pulled her in by their hands, slipping them from her own only to encase her face in his palms before closing the distance between them. The kiss was one of the softest things he’s ever experienced, full of promise and faith from them both. When he pulled away, she smiled at him and he ignored the fullness that filled his chest at the action. 

The room erupted in cheers as Jon lead his wife down the aisle, sparing a smile to those who bear witness. The noise felt numb compared to the adrenaline pumping in his veins. After the reception, there wouldn’t be time for a honeymoon. Too much at risk to leave Westeros now and isolate themselves from the world. They would have tonight though, he wanted to take her into the city. Show her one of his favorite speakeasies and dance and laugh and make love. Enjoying the simple, joyful innocence of newly weds before returning to their own reality. Even if-Jon felt it. A sudden shift that he couldn't explain, an instinct of fear in the atmosphere. 

His smile faded as the feeling crept up his spine, the same feeling he had just before a bomb went off in the war. Jon stopped in his tracks, turning to face the open windows as the roar of an engine that shouldn’t have been there filled his ears. 

“Get down! Get doWN!” 

He pushed Dany onto the ground as screams of panic erupted, there wasn’t enough time to register what took place as he heard it, loud shots ringing in the air, too fast to keep count. Panic and fear ran through him as he saw them, Jay and Rhaena standing near the altar. 

He didn’t think, impulse took over as he ran forward, throwing himself on top of them and the three of them fell to the ground. Searing, blinding pain erupted in his back as he hit the ground. He didn’t know who was screaming, his vision blurred and the shots hadn’t stopped. He felt hands clutching onto him, digging directly into whatever was causing his pain. 

Someone screamed his name but he didn’t know who, he couldn’t. 

His vision wavered, blurring every time he moved his gaze. Robb was crying, clutching someone and-”Talisa.” Jon breathed out at the sight. He was holding Talisa, her arm lay limp on the ground as Robb tried to shake her awake. 

There were so many bodies on the ground and Jon couldn’t differentiate between the living, the dying and the dead. 

A wisp of blonde hair caught his eyes, “Dany.” 

He was moving or someone was moving him.

“Jon, come on now. Stay with me okay.” Has her voice always been this soothing? Even when laced with panic and fear. Exhaustion threatened to take over and his eyelids felt like lead.

“Dany I-” 

She said something but he couldn’t hear, he smiled lazily at her. Pretty wet eyes, soft and violet like lilacs in the rain. A wolf howled in the distance and Jon sighed, “Ghost.” 

The black spots in his eyes grew larger as gentle hands placed themselves on the sides of his head. Someone was screaming and again, he didn’t know who before darkness consumed him whole. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put my whole fucking neck in this chapter, I hope y'all like it. More updates to come I swear, I just gotta get through these revisions. Please leave kudos and a comment, thank you. ♡♡♡


	3. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smoke clears and the wreckage reveals itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: sad af

**RHAEGAR**

 

_ “Jon! Jon!”  _

 

Dany’s screams were the clearest to him. The loudest among the chaos that he was forced to take in. Rhaegar’s gaze shifted towards her and a deep unsettled sinking feeling dug its way into the pits of his stomach.  His newest ally, the man who had sworn his life to his sister, to their family, now laid limp in her arms. He caught sight of the traumatized faces of little ones, Rhaena and Jae, as they stared down at him in horror. 

 

And then came Rhaenys’.

 

The most devastating of them all seeped into his eardrums like a painstaking poison. She screamed with a pain that Rhaegar had never been forced to endure. A pain that lurched his heart and forced his stomach to the ground as he looked to his daughter. His beautiful, precious Rhaenys clutching onto two tiny bodies. Rhaegar’s heart stopped as he stood and moved towards her. Mind reeling as his body took action. 

 

Her screams were deafening as she shook them desperately. Moving from one to the other with despair written in her face as in her heart. She shook her sons, her twin boys Brynden and Duncan, with an anguish Rhaegar could never imagine. Not even from men as they pleaded for their own lives. Her hands shook as she cupped little Brynden and pleaded to gods she had never prayed to. 

 

“No, no, no!” Rhaegar reached for her shaking body but she shook him off. 

 

“Wake up, please! M-My babies, please!” The sound that omitted from her then pierced his soul. Shattered it to pieces as his mind stared in shock, not fully wrapping its head around all that had happened. Her husband, Francis, came to her side and stared. All he could do was stare at what he saw. It was a practical stranger, a Dothraki woman by the name of Irri who picked her off the ground and took her away from the sight. Who kept her steady when her legs threatened to collapse out from under her.  An unsullied lead Francis away, held his hand against his chest as he pushed him back into the reception room. Rhaegar watched as the man stared in complete and utter disbelief at their bodies before he was dragged into the reception room along with his wife. 

 

He did the same, looked down at their pale and underdeveloped faces. A week from their seventh name day. A day they would never see.  His grandchildren, his grandsons...the thought plunged Rhaegar to his knees. An overwhelming feeling of grief bloomed in his chest as a warmth that had long grown foreign grew behind in his eyes.

 

“Rhaegar! Rhaegar!” The sound of Elia’s voice shook him from his daze. 

 

“There are injured and they will join those dying if we don’t get them immediate medical attention.” She stood behind him, determination etched onto her features as she held Aemon up. Blood poured from the side of his head and confusion was written all over his face. 

 

“Elia-they-” 

 

“I know. But we can-not yet.” The pain in her voice was evident but her duty had not faltered.  And neither could his, a trait he had inherited from his mother and one Elia had been born with. 

 

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Now was not the time for grief. Perhaps it was the fact that his mind hadn’t fully registered all had taken place. That the shock of the newly developed trauma he had bared witness to and would suffer through immensely had barely begun to set in. Maybe it was because he had lost more than enough for one lifetime. Or just that he had lost too much of his own humanity that denied the feelings rising within him to flood his mind, body and soul all at once. They were questions that he would never fully answer but he could feel it, a wall building deep within his chest as he somehow, by the grace of the Valyrian Gods, he detached himself. From all of it.  

 

He was a leader, a king. Kings could never falter, even in the face of unforeseeable tragedy or else their kingdoms would be lost forever. 

 

When his violet hues met the scene again, it was under new lenses. His body moved on autopilot as he stood and swept his gaze to the nearest unsullied. Without thinking, he motioned for him to come. 

 

“Find Greyworm, tell him to gather the surviving men in his ranks to aid the sick and injured.” The nameless man nodded and Rhaegar dismissed him, moving towards Jay and Rhaena. He scooped the last of his grandchildren up and led them away from the scene. Into the reception area with his own children. Rhaenys stood in the far corner, clutching herself as she rocked back in forth in a chair. An effort to hold herself together, to bring comfort where there was none to be found. A dull ache sounded inside him before he turned his gaze away to sit the children down at the nearest table.

 

“I need you to stay here for me. Do not move unless me or your grandmother comes to get you, is that understood?” 

 

They didn’t answer. 

 

“Can you do that for me?” 

 

He asked again, voice sterner and colder than it had been in nearly a decade. Rhaegar wasn’t there. Not entirely.  However, Rhaena heard him and nodded, moving to place her hand on Jay’s. Rhaegar stood and moved back towards the chaos. An unsullied making his way to the ceremonial room was stopped by the Targaryen head. “Watch for the children and my daughter.” He instructed and the unsullied nodded before the double doors opened. Barristan walked past the two of them. A woman in his arms, Rhaella. 

 

“I’ve got her. I’ve got her. She’s breathing, I’ve got her.” He muttered towards him and Rhaegar didn’t spare it a second thought. 

 

Instead he moved like a machine, giving orders to anyone who stood there like a dead fish as hell ensued. It all felt like a nightmare, none of it felt real which is why he supposed it was easier to act during this time. Viserys had disappeared from the action, a subtle hint of relief sunk into him at the realization that his brother was more than likely alive. 

 

The injured were gathered with care, the death toll was small given the action. Twelve. He didn’t ask for names, not yet. Elia moved with poise and grace as she dealt with the hysterical and inconsolable. She was stronger than him and they both knew it. 

 

Rhaegar was leading a redheaded girl who had previously been determined to find her mother towards the reception with the rest of the survivors when Elia stopped him.   
  


“Viserys needs you.” 

 

“Is he-” 

 

“No. I’ve got this for now. He’s by the front gates.” 

 

He nodded, leaving the girl in the care of his wife as he moved through the broken glass. He moved with haste, running to the front of the home only to find a wreckage in the nearest tree of the gardens. A white Cadillac slammed by an old Ford truck into it. Viserys sat on top of a strange man, Rhaegar watched as his brother brutally slammed his fists into his victim. Over and over again. 

 

He had no intention of stopping. Viserys hadn’t asked for Rhaegar but it was clear why Elia had said he needed him. 

 

“Don’t kill him.” The words left his mouth loud and clear but Viserys didn’t stop him. His anger had almost completely consumed him and a dragon’s temper needed to rage. But Rhaegar needed him alive. He struck fast, diving and tackling his brother off his victim. He struggled but Rhaegar pinned him to the ground. Hand resting on his neck, knees on his wrists as Viserys struggled beneath him. 

 

“Contain yourself brother, there will be time for you to unleash everything you are feeling but now is not it. We have the injured inside in need of your assistance.” His brother stared at him, venom laced in the darkness of his purple eyes. 

 

“Our family was attacked and you want me to show mercy?!” 

 

Rhaegar’s eyes flashed and for a second, the hatred and anger that roared beneath became evident. Viserys shivered under him but all too quickly, he blinked and it was gone. 

 

“No, not mercy. Never that. But patience and restraint, yes.” He breathed deeply, reminding himself that there was a time and place to lose yourself in emotion and now was not it. 

 

“Our sister just watched the man she promised her life be shot to the point of unconsciousness as well as our mother. We have surviving men who need our guidance, women and children who need our kindness and allies who need reassurance. I care not for mercy but I do for survival. Vengeance will come but now is not the time, do you understand me brother?” 

 

Rhaegar studied Viserys as his jaw clenched and for a moment, he awaited another challenge to spew from his lips. It never came. 

  
“Yes brother, I understand.” 

 

With that, Rhaegar rose and stuck a hand out for Viserys to take. He didn’t, standing on his own and stalking away. Rhaegar watched him, pausing shortly before as his brother turned to the beaten man who now sat up and rested on his elbows.

 

“Viserys-” but it was too late, his brother had already moved to kick the man in the face. Sending him spiraling back to the ground. 

 

Rhaegar sighed, “now brother. I will show restraint.” Viserys told him before turning his back and towards the front door. 

 

The sound of footsteps against the gravel gained his attention and Rhaegar turned towards the owners of them. Gendry Baratheon and his fiance, Arya Stark stood near the crash. Dressed for a wedding, just in time for a funeral. 

 

“My apologies on ‘bout the tree sir, the car came out of nowhere. Before I knew it we had crashed into him and then your brother came out like a tornado and pulled one of the guys from the car and well, you know...” Gendry trailed off and Rhaegar took in his words before nodding in understanding.  

 

“One of the men?” 

 

“Yes, sir. The other is stuck behind the steering wheel.” He informed him, uncertainty laced in his tone despite the facts he spoke. It was then that Rhaegar realized Gendry feared him. Rightfully so. 

 

“Do me a favor Baratheon” 

 

“Yes sir.” He acted as if Rhaegar was his superior and not his equal. It was becoming more and more clear that Robert had not trained the boy properly for the life he was bound to lead. 

 

“Bring these men to my office, do not let them leave.” 

 

“Is there a particular reason as to why?” Arya questioned, more authority in her voice than her husband held in any of their previous conversations. Perhaps he might survive this world with her at his side.

 

“Those men attacked the wedding, a dozen people dead and more injured. They will answer for their crimes. And then some.” 

  
  


**ELIA**

 

The moans and cries of the wounded and dying replayed in her mind no matter how much she worked to tune them out. Busying herself with whatever task came about which thankfully, were many. Elia had never liked war. Violence was never something she drifted towards or took a liking to as a child. She used to beg her father to let her stay home whenever he made plans to take them out to the shooting range in Dorne. She’d rather spend her time within the confines of their home, painting in the water gardens and sitting beside her mother as she played the piano or the harp. 

 

However, her father had been a stern man hell bent on making sure that each of his children could be able to fend for themselves in the life they lived. So along with her brothers, Oberyn and Doran, she trained. She learned the art of war strategy, how to shoot a man dead from within fifty feet with a gun. Twenty five with a knife. Her weapon of choice however had always been diplomacy. Unlike Doran and Oberyn, her training did not start and cease with the fundamental guidelines of survival within this world. 

 

Elia didn’t have the luxury her brothers did. She wasn’t just a leading figure of a crime family, she was that  **and** a woman. A woman married to a Targaryen of all the families. 

 

Which meant her knowledge would have to go above and beyond that of what her brothers knew. She had to maintain her cover as a simple ‘exotic’ wife of an aristocratic man with former royal blood running through his veins. Because of this, Elia had readied herself for any and all things that would come to her. She had tried to prepare for the unexpected when dealing with their enemies, for the press attacking her family simply because she was a woman of color who birthed children of color to a rich white man. She prepared herself for all things to the best of her abilities, both physically and mentally.

 

But how does one prepare themselves to look their dead brother in the face as his body lay discarded on the ground as if he was nothing? How does one prepare themselves for the sight of their two grand babies dead before they had even lived? How does one prepare themselves for the grief they not only have to carry but that of their daughter’s? How does one comfort their child as she suffers through one of the worst possible experiences a parent could ever fathom? The truth is, one can’t. 

 

No matter how many hours spent studying miscellaneous pages of seemingly useful information. No matter how many hours one pushes their body to the point of their physical peak, there was no preparation for tragedy. 

 

Elia pulled Rhaenys in closer as she sobbed, holding her for dear life as she cried against her chest.

 

Tears blurred her eyes as Elia stroked her head gently. 

 

“My babies, my babies.” Her voice was raw at this point, the words falling from her lips over and over again. Elia held her tighter, something she wasn’t entirely sure was possible but still she attempted it.  

 

They were in a private room,  Rhaenys’ old one. Her husband had driven off shortly after seeing the bodies to do god knows what. Elia sent two unsullied to follow him closely and make sure he didn’t do anything to hurt himself. 

 

“I know baby, I know.” An empty feeling crept up inside her chest as she did her best to soothe her aching child. The door handle turned and she looked up to see Aegon in the doorway. His eyes were bloodshot and knuckles bloodied. Concern for her son filled her as he made his way into the room. 

 

“Your presence is needed in the war room mother.” He told her simply, his gaze trained on Rhaenys as he did so. 

 

“I can-” 

 

“It’s of grave importance” Aegon said simply, dismissing her protests of leaving her daughter alone. Elia nodded, hearing a similar finality in his tone that his father held when he couldn’t be budged on a subject. 

 

“I-I’ve got her.” His tone shifted, vulnerability evident and for a moment, she could see the little boy who crept in her bed at night when thunderstorms grew too much for him to handle. Aegon sat beside Rhae, pulling her off her mother’s shoulders and into his arms. His sister didn’t fight the change of embrace, just sunk deeper into Aegon’s familiarity. 

 

Elia stared at the sight of her children. Aegon watching over her just as he had done when they were younger. The thought would’ve warmed her heart if it weren’t under such grave circumstances. With that, she stood and with reluctance, slipped out the room. 

 

The wreckage after the storm had just begun to set in, Elia could feel it in the melancholic atmosphere as she moved. Her body began to sag as the weight of today began to settle in and the grief she had shoved down so deeply threatened to bubble up during the brief moment of solitude. 

 

They have lost twelve people so far, three of which her own blood. More were fighting for their lives in the medic wing. They had been hit and they had been hit badly. Dragonstone was no longer safe and their home would never be the same. The warmth and light that once lived within these walls were gone. She’d never hear their laughs again. She’d never bring them into her arms and tell them she loved them. Because she did, more than words could fathom. 

 

Her legs wobbled and her balance wavered. The overwhelming feeling of all of it began to crash into her like waves against the shores. Her hands reached for the wall as her knees buckled beneath her, the tears for all she had lost and all she could lose began to seep from her eyes. 

 

Her knees never met the hardwood floor, strong arms grabbed her own and pulled her into their embrace before she could. The smell of warm oak trees and mint shaving cream filled her senses as they pulled her closer. 

 

“Elia.” The sound of her name on his lips sent a small semblance of relief through her. 

 

“I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.” Arthur assured her as Elia sank into his embrace. Hands grasping at his back as the tears fell. She couldn’t fall apart, not yet. Not now. 

 

Elia steadied herself, not letting go of the man who held her up. 

 

“I-thank you.” she breathed out, looking up into his eyes. Soft and brown, the warmth she usually felt when their gaze met was nowhere to be found. She felt too hollow to be consumed by what she usually felt around him. Elia pulled away, moving to wipe the stray tears from her cheeks. 

 

“I came to -” 

 

“I know. I’m needed.” She said and he nodded, a solemn concern etched into his handsome features. With that, she breathed deeply, closing her eyes to regain the composure she had previously lost. She didn’t look at him, she didn’t want to feel the safety and security his gaze gave her. His presence made her feel too much and she couldn’t allow herself to fall into his comfort and to finally let go of all she had held in. She couldn’t. Not yet. 

 

She moved forward. Arthur followed silently behind her. Always there to catch her if she fell. She slipped through the halls with her lover hovering after her like a shadow.

 

He moved to open the deep mahogany door in front of her.  The war room lacked its commanding energy and power it normally held when she entered. Daenerys was present along with Rhaegar, Viserys and the Baratheons. Arianne sat in the corner beside Margaery Tyrell, her lightheartedness gone replaced with empty stone like features. The atmosphere was somber to say the least. 

 

“The sons betrayed us.”    
  
Rhaegar spoke first, voice rigid and cold. Detached from the world around him and Elia could see the rage that hid within the violet of his eyes. The feeling of betrayal began to seep through her bones, flashes of Daario Naharis’ easy smile peered in her mind. His shifty eyes too.  There was a nonchalance to him that she had never trusted. Nothing about that man felt genuine and now she understood why.  

 

“Those who survived attempted to flee the scene, some did. Most didn’t, Arstan will have the numbers to me with due time. The perpetrators of the act are in our possession. Viserys and I will be dealing with them accordingly.”

 

“You speak of this as if it were a casual occurrence?! Our families were targeted, word will spread of our weakness to the lesser gangs within the city. Our reputations and the respect we’ve culminated over the years are at risk. If those are lost, so are the positions we hold. You were foolish to entrust sell swords with a manner as important as the protection of your kin” Margaery’s voice was laced with venom as she stared at her Rhaegar in seething anger. 

 

“We have dealt with the sons for years and we have remained in their good graces for the entirety of that time. We paid them well and we’re assured their loyalty, their new captain however seems to have not given a damn about the old ways a transaction occurs. We needed the men.” Her husband reasoned but Elia knew his explanation sounded more like an excuse to the allies that sat in front of them. 

 

“Yes and because of your rushed desperation, my brother is dead.” She spoke coldly, a crack in her composed demeanor began to show and resentment and anger began to seep through. 

 

“My mother lies fighting for her life in a hospital wing. My two grandsons are dead. Loss is something that has graced us all today-” 

 

“Losses on your account. Under your watchful eye Rhaegar.” Arianne spoke, not bothering to hide the disdain she held for him in the moment. 

  
  
  


“Arianne do-” Viserys began. 

 

She turned to him, daggers in her eyes and Elia was reminded of why the dornish referred to her as Jacara. Any lesser man in Viserys’ place would’ve shuddered and stepped down, but he was a dragon. For awhile they held intense eye contact before Arianne looked away, shaking her head. 

 

“Tywin is counting on our anger, on our emotions to run wild in the next few days and for a reckless and ill thought out retaliation. If we act now based on wounded pride, we will not come out alive.” 

 

“If we sit here like ducks waiting for their next strike, we will not have to wait to act. We will already be dead.” Daenerys spoke, she sounded stronger than she looked. Still wearing the wedding dress with the blood stains of her betrothed soaked into the fabric. A day meant for joy had quickly turned ugly and will forever haunt her. The thought makes Elia’s chest ache. 

 

“Which is why we won’t. We can’t rely on the borders of Dragonstone to ensure the safety of our family any longer. We will relocate once the dead are buried and the injured strong enough to travel. For as long as we stay here, we are vulnerable. Summerhall will have to hold us for now.” Rhaegar told them. 

 

“And then what? Arianne is right, if we allow those northern scum to gain the upper hand then-” Viserys began only for Rhaegar to boldly interrupt. 

 

“They already have gained the upper hand. We need time to collect our strength.” 

 

“The more time we give ourselves to grow stronger, the more time our enemies will as well.” 

 

“So what would you have us do brother? Strike now, while we are weak.” Rhaegar’s exasperation was evident as he turned towards his younger brother. 

 

“I have friends in Essos. We can send for them and-” 

 

“Trusting believed allies is what got us here in the first place. I will not rely on anyone outside of our own with the task of protecting or defending us any longer.”

  
“The Dothraki are not your own, neither are the other southron families and yet you have us present.” Margaery spoke. 

 

“Your loyalty has been proven time and time again.”    


“Similar to the sons.” Dany spoke and Rhaegar looked to her, she had overstepped. Undermining him in front of the company was a sign of disrespect, a sign of division. They could not afford to be divided. 

 

“What do we have to show for our loyalty? My blood was gunned down by enemies you assured us would not be able to lay a hand on us!”  Margaery spoke, her anger evident in every word. 

 

“What are you saying?” Elia questioned. 

 

“I’m telling you not to be foolish. Do not forget that the Dothraki follow strength, you Targaryens seem to have grown weaker as the days pass on.” Her words were laced with thorns, true to her golden rose status. She was right. Rhaegar had just recently regained confidence from their allies. This hit will further put doubt on his ability as a leader,if he cannot ensure the safety of his own family, how can he be trusted with the product? 

 

“Hold your tongue child.” Viserys spoke, fire evoked in his words. 

 

“Or what? Will you have your brother strike her down where she stands? As he did your father.” Arianne spoke boldly and Elia could feel her stomach drop at the accusation. 

 

The atmosphere shifted swiftly, tense quiet. Each of the Targaryen siblings turned to face her, Arianne had been stupid to say such a thing. Elia watched as her niece began to shrink under their gazes, feeling the heat of dragon’s breath on her neck. 

 

“Arianne, your anger is getting the best of you but it does not give you the right to spread lies or say words that you will live to regret.” She warned but whatever part of Arianne that was willing to submit before vanished. She turned her glare to Elia, quietly seething. Elia did not falter under her gaze, she simply held it with a softer intensity than that of her niece. 

 

“Ensure the safety of your family Rhaegar, we shall do the same for our own.” Margaery said, standing from her place and moving towards the door. Arianne soon followed. After a beat of silence, Viserys spoke up.

 

“I should try to speak reason onto them.”  

 

“I’d rather maintain the possibility of sustaining our long standing alliances, not completely destroy them brother. It was inane to hold a meeting so soon, we must meet at a time when our grievances don’t cloud our minds.” Rhaegar sighed, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

 

“We can’t lose the confidence of our allies.” Viserys reminded him. 

 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Rhaegar snapped, it was a rare sight for her husband to lose his composure. Things had taken their toll and the grief had barely begun to seep in, the period of shock was the only thing keeping the majority of them standing here today. 

 

“You’re grown ass men, stop arguing like children.” Daenerys said, annoyance clear in her tone. 

 

“Never question my authority among those who are not our immediate family again Daenerys.” Rhaegar spoke, voice lethal with ire. Daenerys stared, exhaustion and regret clear in her eyes before nodding. 

 

“My apologies, I’ll talk sense into them.”  She said, grabbing her skirts and moving to follow behind Margaery and Arianne. 

 

The door slammed behind her, leaving no less tension than when she was present. Rhaegar’s hands gravitated to the sides of his forehead and he rubbed. 

 

Viserys stared at his brother, analyzing him as if he were waiting for something he knew would never come. Seconds ticked by before he decided he couldn't read him or that he didn't want to. 

 

“I’m going to finish what I started, I’ll leave them alive for your questioning.” Confusion crept into Elia’s mind as she watched the youngest Targaryen brother leave the room. 

 

The slam was deafening and the silence that followed was tense. Elia looked to her husband, watching the stress and grief of it all begin to show itself on his unblemished skin. She found herself thinking this state of him felt natural, he had always possessed an element of sorrow within him. Born at Harrenhal during a tragedy, it was as if he carried the weight of the souls who took their last breath there as he took his first.

 

“Rhaegar-” 

 

“I know. I just-it was thoughtless to hold a meeting so soon with emotions running as high as they are. I needed some kind of clarity but I now see that  will only come in time.” He told her, she could see his exhaustion as his shoulders began to sag. She could see the grief threatening to spill over and consume him. The shock of it all was wearing off and even he could only detach himself for so long.

 

Elia stood and made her way to him, wrapping comforting arms around his waist from the back and holding him to her. She could feel him relax against her touch, an unsteady breath released from his lips and his hands move to grip her own. Both shutting their eyes in the small moment of intimacy.

 

Together they stood, holding each other up in the way only they knew how. In the way they had sworn to do for the entirety of their lives.  

 

After minutes, Rhaegar spoke. 

 

“Go to him.” The words took her off guard as Elia’s eyes shot open and grip loosened from her husbands’ waist. 

 

“I-now is not the time…” 

 

“It is. We can’t withhold ourselves and the emotions that run through us forever. If we do, it'll destroy us and if we fall…” 

 

“...the family falls.” Elia finished as she pulled away completely, Rhaegar turned to face her. His soft violet gaze held her own before he gently placed her head in his hands and kissed her forehead. 

 

“Do what you must now because when we rise in daylight, there will be no time for ourselves.” He told her. 

 

“What about you?” 

 

“I have my ways.” 

 

Elia stared at him but the reassurance in his gaze won her over. Or maybe it was the need to be held in the arms of the only man she had ever truly loved, she’s not sure. But she found herself nodding, kissing his knuckles gently before slipping from his fingertips. Out the door like so many others. 

 

Arthur stood outside, gaze finding her own and Elia could already feel the tears welling. He reached for her, pulling her in by the waist and for the first time that day, she allowed herself to fall apart. His arms moved to carry her being as Elia curled her arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer as warm wetness traveled down her cheeks. He pushed open the nearest room with her feet and slammed it shut with his own. 

 

Gently, he placed her on the bed. 

 

“My-my babies. My family Arthur, they’re gone.” She sobbed, the anguish bursting through her like a dam as Arthur locked the door behind them. He returned to her side and pulled her into him. Her emotions ran through her like a raging wildfire, she screamed and cried against his chest until her throat ran raw.  She allowed herself to feel it, all of it. The pain, the loss, the sense of failure and Arthur said nothing. A calm to her storm. 

 

When the flames began to turn to smoke, Arthur kissed her skin. Under her eyelids and softly her lips. He said nothing as he peeled her shoes off, stripping her of her clothing and brought her to the bathroom. 

 

He sat her atop the counter as he ran the water. It felt like a blur, everything moved so slowly and yet all at once. She felt hollow as Arthur pulled her back into his arms and set her in the water. He bathed her as she sat there, numb to the world around her. He dried her and dressed her in one of the guest nightgowns stored in the closet. After giving himself the same courtesy, he joined her in bed. Stroking her hair as she lay on his chest, cooing her to a dreamless sleep. 

 

Down the hall, Rhaegar sat in the war room. Completely still as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. His throat burned with frustration, his mind replayed the image of his fallen loved ones. One by one and the sense of failure settled deep into his chest. Rhaegar gripped his chair, digging the wood into his skin until he felt the blood. The pressure has broken skin. 

 

He stared down at the table, a grainy picture of a life he had never truly known staring back at him. A woman in white, smiling wildly up at him as he looked down at her, the same love and admiration in his gaze. 

 

He longed for her touch, her comfort, her. He needed the northern woman more than he had ever needed anyone. Needed to hear her warm words of assurance, to feel her skin against his own. He needed her. He had never stopped.  

 

He lifted the chair and lunged it across the room, it shattered to pieces against the wall. He released a gut wrenching scream before falling to his knees. All of it, all that he had numbed himself to erupted like a volcano. Spewing fire against his insides. His fists hit the floor repeatedly, he couldn't feel the pain in his hands. 

 

He couldn't feel any of it. Just the guilt and the remorse and the loss and the rage. Mostly the rage. It was endless. He felt like an insolent child throwing a tantrum over his loss of control. In a way, he was. 

 

Time disappeared as he fell into the pit of his soul. The only person who could bring him out of it was gone. He raged until his body was consumed, until it became too much and he blacked out. 

 

Dreams came to Rhaegar, fleeting memories of a life he couldn't recognize with a woman who was more dream than reality. He woke with tears streaming down his face and broken knuckles. Sleep would never return. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I could write a list as to why this took so long, my laptop screen broke and you know...depression. But I'm back and I'm trying, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. please let me know your thoughts, its greatly appreciated.


	4. A Gathering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaenys wakes in Aegon's arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two updates in two days! my serotonin must be through the roof, lol.

**AEGON**

 

The sun woke him, gentle rays of light beaming through the thin curtains onto his eyelids. A crick in the back of his neck made itself known as his mind came to reality. The events of yesterday and the trauma it caused were still fresh in his head, his chest ached at the thought of it. He shoved those thoughts away and peered down at the raven haired woman on his chest.  Rhaenys now laid in his arms after she had cried until she couldn’t anymore and exhaustion took over. Once she had fallen asleep, he allowed himself to fall apart. Dwelling on the memory of the nephews he would never see again and all they he could lose when daylight came. 

 

When she woke in the night to his tears, she took her turn comforting him. Clutching him to her chest as they grieved together as one, before they both finally slipped into unconsciousness. It had all felt like a nightmare, too eerie and too illusory. Too much all at once to truly feel real. 

 

But it was. All of it. 

 

He laid there, brown hues secured on the ceiling as he stroked her back gently. Reveling in the feeling of her steady breathing, of the temporary peace that consumed her. He knew it was one of the few and only forms of it she would find for the time to come. 

There was so much to do, he could already hear the commotion downstairs. The sound of the sick and wounded, moaning out in pain as they attempted to find rest. He could hear the footsteps and chatter of help that tended to them. He could feel the tension from those who remained unharmed physically but scarred mentally, their pacing and unsteady breathing.  Their anxiousness, worried that at any moment someone else they love could no longer be on this planet. That feeling of unease echoed all throughout the estate. 

 

Ire filled Aegon at the thought of Daario Naharis’ escape. One of the three sons who managed to get away. His mind filled with the blue haired scums plotting alongside Tywin Lannister in secret, of the lies of assurity he spewed in his father’s face. Of the feeling of accomplishment that filled the man when his deception proved to be successful. His dry lips curled into a smirk knowing he had Targaryen blood on his hands. 

 

He wanted him dead. The thought of him walking unpunished for his betrayal, continuing on snorting his coke and fucking his women made his stomach lurch.  He imagined what he would do once he got his hands on him. How to make him feel even a fraction of what he had inflicted on his family yesterday. Maybe he would start small, pluck each fingernail from his fingers slowly. No, he’d take a hammer to them instead. One by one, allowing the pain to truly sit in before moving to the next.  Boil his feet till they both could smell the skin melting off his bones. Catastration after days of cock and ball torture. 

 

He’d leave him alive for months on end. Brand his skin with the names of all those he wronged. He would break the man in every way imaginable. Not just physically, he would find his worst fears and destroy his mind as much as he would his body. Maybe he’d hunt him down, kill his loved ones if he managed to have any. He’d break his soul. Leave him a walking skeleton, a corpse of a man whose insides matched that of his outsides. Not even when he begged for the sweet release of death would Aegon give it to him. For every drop of blood he helped shed down his aunt’s marriage aisle, he would pay and he would pay greatly. That Aegon was sure of. 

 

Movement of Rhaenys’ body stirred him away from his gory fantasies. He looked down to see her awake, staring at the door across from her as she gripped his torso. They laid in silence for as long as their loud minds would allow them to. Eventually their father would wake if he wasn’t already and he would need their presence. At the very least his own if Nys wasn’t able to think strategically at the moment. Which was a very real possibility. 

 

“It was all real wasn’t it?” Her voice was hoarse and cold. Aegon’s fingers moved to trail through her dornish locs. 

 

“I’m afraid so my love.” 

 

He waited for a sob that never came, instead she rose off him and then off the bed completely. Keeping her back to him as she moved across the room, Aegon sat up on his elbows and watched her move. Her eyes were cold and unfeeling as she stood in front of the mirror that sat atop her dresser. He watched her as she moved, reaching for a locket that rested on its surface. 

 

"Do you remember when we were children and Oberyn gifted us the locket of mother and father? Said if we carried them with us, we could always protect them.” She asked, voice delicate and soft as she lifted a silver one from the smooth wood surface. 

 

“I do. During the failed rebellion when we were powerless children hiding in Dorne as they fought without us. You wanted to do something so bad, all I wanted to do was cry for our mother while you wanted to fight. Uncle gifted that to ease our spirits.” He told her, smiling a little to himself as he stood. She didn’t look at him as she opened the pendant. Aegon moved towards her until he stood chest to her back. Their reflections clear in the mirror before them. 

 

In daylight, their differences clear as day. She was the spitting image of her mother, lightly brown skin and dark curly hair. She had inherited her father's valyrian eyes. Aegon had a slightly lighter skin tone but his hair was a silver spun gold. Eyes as dark as his mothers. They said eyes were the windows to the soul which would explain the internal liking he took to their mother and that she took to their father.  He enjoyed the contrast, both a perfect mix of their great bloodlines. 

 

“I also remember that those lockets were gold Rhaenys.” 

 

Her gaze peered to his own through the mirror. Violet meeting russett. 

 

“I know. After he gave us those lockets, they both survived. A few cuts and bruises and a lifetime of trauma to suffer through but they were alive.” She looked away from him and back to the locket. 

 

“I guess I became superstitious. After Francis and I had Jaehaerys and we decided it would be the last of our heirs, I had this fashioned in Dorne. I wore it everyday, Egg, everyday.” Her voice cracked and instinctively, he moved to wrap his hand around her shoulders in a comforting manner. A tear slid down her cheek and he denied himself another instinctual action, kissing her shoulder and then kissing it away. Something he hadn’t done in years. An action that would blur lines they had barely re-established before her marriage. 

 

“Francis he- um, he bought me this diamond necklace to wear to Aunt Dany’s wedding. He told me it was meant to take center stage. At that time I-” she stopped, looking down at her neck and holding the still present diamond between her fingertips. 

 

“I thought it to be romantic. That he was making an effort to bring love to a marriage that lacked it . So I let him take off my locket, the locket of our children, that had kept them safe for so long and put this meaningless rock in its place and now...two of my children are dead.” 

 

Her voice grew angry and frustrated. But another tear fell, revealing the anguish that roared within her.   

 

“And Francis, is nowhere to be found.” Aegon watched her as she looked back at him, eyes lit with a fire as rage filled her tone, daggers laced in each. 

 

“Nyssy I-” 

 

The door opened, pulling the twins from each other and towards it. Aegon removed his hands as one of Rhaegar’s guard, Connas, walked in. 

 

“I’m sorry to disturb you but Rhaegar has requested your presence in his office Aegon.” He spoke before leaving. 

 

“I have to check on Jae anyway, he stayed with Elizabeth along with your children. I couldn’t care for him in that state.” She spoke, all signs of her brokenness hidden behind a mask she had perfected over years of watching her father do the same. 

 

“Alright, after this meeting with father I’ll come. I was there to get them settled but I was pulled away shortly after and then you needed me an-” 

  
“You're a good father Aegon.” Her hand rested on his chest, halting his words. 

 

“You’re here which is more than some can say.”

 

For a moment, they held their gaze and thoughts he had longed numbed himself to flickered inside. His eyes trailed down to her neck, “may I?” 

 

Rhaenys nodded, turning her back to him. Carefully he removed the necklace and tossed it aside. He looked at her in their reflection, something blooming inside him as he held out his hand for her to place the locket in. She did. Tenderly he brought to her neck, stroking it softly without thought before the realization of his actions and what they could lead to. Quickly he snapped it in place and looked back to her. 

 

Her gaze already trained on him and a pregnant silence filled the air.

 

“There, it’s just where it should always be.” She shivered at the feel of his breath against her neck and quickly, he looked away. Moving away from and out the door without a second thought.  

 

~TM~

 

The first thing he noticed was the bandages wrapped intricately around his father’s fingers. The second was the mess of papers sprawled out and across his desk. The third was the bags under his eyes, yet he dressed in a suit and his hair was slicked back. On the surface, he was almost impeccable but his eyes betrayed him as they always did. 

 

He looked wounded but still powerful and Egg admired him for his strength. If that’s what this could be classified as. 

 

“How’s your sister?” His voice sounds as hoarse as her own. It’s then that Aegon takes note of the tea on the table behind him, still steaming. 

 

The question was simple and yet he had no idea how to answer it truthfully. The night before she had fallen apart, experienced complete hysteria and then she was like a ghost of herself. Or someone who was shattered into a million pieces all at once. This morning she was like a raged filled stone. A ticking time bomb. Then again who wasn’t? 

 

“She’s holding her own. Mom?” 

 

Rhaegar smiled sadly, “She’s holding her own. Your grandmother is stable, not awake but the doctors are hopeful.” 

 

A small sense of relief filled him at hearing that. 

 

“And my father?” 

 

Rhaegar peered at him and for a moment, he didn’t bother hiding his sadness. Or his exhaustion. His grandmother, Rhaella, used to tell them stories of their father’s sad eyes. How haunted he had always seemed to be, she said it was as if he knew nothing but sorrow. She would then say when they were born his eyes had never known greater joy. He had never had those sad eyes again.  

 

She hadn’t been correct, there were these fleeting moments in their childhood where his natural solemness would show on his face. Only for a moment then. Now it was as if that’s all there was and Aegon didn’t know if that was all there would ever be. 

 

His smile faded and his guard with it, Rhaegar moved to lean against the top of his chair. His body sagging against it and his head hung low. 

 

“I-rest has not come easy to say the least. I’m not sure I’ll ever know peace until I have Tywin Lannister’s head on my mantle after torturing him for weeks on end. Maybe months. A year if I can restrain myself long enough. Daario’s by his side and any other degenerates who helped them in this act against our family. Even then I’m not sure it will come.” He spoke truthfully. 

 

“I’ve imagined a number of ways to inflict pain on the traitor. I’m not sure that will be enough either.” Aegon agreed.

 

“We have to get to that point first. The southron allies want retaliation. We need some form of a plan to show them when a proper council is called. It will be soon. In the meantime, we need to somehow move all we are to Summerhall with the utmost discretion. It's farther from our base of operations but in the city but it’s safer. We need to rebuild our numbers and somehow maintain the alliances that are already on thin ice.” 

 

“Thin ice? Since when.” 

 

“Since significant members of the Martells and Tyrells were murdered yesterday morning after we promised them safety. Margaery and Arianne were hostile when I called them to the war room last night. It was foolish to try and discuss things with wounds so fresh. Daenerys spoke to them but not even her pretty words can reverse such damage and their loss of trust.” He explained.

 

“Olenna is dead, Loras is dead. Doran is dead. That means the southron families are in no place to back us after taking such significant hits. The Martells will need a new head of family sooner rather than later and if Arianne is chosen after the trials which she will no doubt offer herself for,  I’m not sure we’ll remain allies. Even with her and Dany’s friendship and her past with Viserys, our future with them remains unclear. I do have faith in Willas to continue his support after today’s events.” 

 

“If Arianne fails the trials then Trystane will be next in line, right?” 

 

“Arianne will not fail the trials and if she did, there’s no way Trystane would pass. Much too soft hearted.” Rhaegar corrected them. 

 

“We could propose a marriage with Viserys perhaps?” 

  
His father shot him a look and Aegon knew it was foolish. 

 

“With their history? Even if they could look past it we would have to maintain our rank and strength and right now that is under question. The idea of doing such a thing might insult them at the moment. We have to make sure we’re secure at Summerhall before we can even think of acting further.”

 

“What of the Dothraki?”

 

“Rokharo has always wanted to lead his people, he will endure the combat to prove his strength. If he survives, our alliance will not change.”

 

“Drogo had a wife father, what if she chooses to rally her people behind her and-” 

 

“Unlikely. When news of his death came to her yesterday afternoon, she apparently looked more relieved than heartbroken. It was always rumored that he had been rough with her but I didn’t believe it until now. Arstan tells me she and Rokharo have a history, if he wins I believe that we will have their unwavering support.” He further explained. Aegon was beginning to match his train of thought. 

 

“And the unsullied are sworn to Grey Worm and Grey Worm-” 

 

“Is sworn to us.” Rhaegar finished for him. Aegon smiled at that before another thought could cross his mind. 

 

“And the Starks?”

 

“I doubt they would break their alliance so soon, this only makes it even clearer we share a common enemy. The eldest, Robb, lost his wife and unborn child in the attacks and the mother of them all, Catelyn is gone as well. Jon is stable but not awake yet and so is the eldest Stark girl’s husband but I’m not sure he’ll survive this.” 

 

“Before it was just common interests that bound us and now its common tragedy and anger. Perhaps our ties are stronger today than they were yesterday.” Aegon said, despite the silver lining his somber tone was evident. 

 

“Yes, perhaps.” 

 

Silence enveloped overtook them before his father stood to his full height again. 

  
“I hear your wife and children were lucky, that is one thing to be grateful for.” Rhaegar told him and  Aegon nodded. 

 

“I am grateful.” 

 

“Your sister was not so fortunate. I don’t know the pain she feels and I never will but two of my grandchildren and your nephews are-” he faltered, the wound was much too fresh to speak on them yet. 

 

“What we do in the future is for them, we will end the lives of those who robbed them of theirs. My men tell me Francis left the grounds last night, chaperoned but still gone. I fear he’s not reliable and your sister will need us. Jae will need us.” 

 

“I understand.”  More than he knew. 

 

“In the meantime, as long as we maintain both your marriages we will not lose their family’s support.” It was a strange reminder to give him considering he and Rhaenys had lived their entire adult lives and sacrificed parts of themselves for this knowledge. 

 

“I know father.” 

 

“Do you?” His tone had turned inquisitive and Aegon raised his brows at that, confusion clouding his mind over his father’s scrutiny. 

 

“Connas tells me the two of you fell asleep together last night. In the same bed.” 

 

Frustration filled Rhaegar’s youngest, he couldn't possibly be serious right now. 

 

“It wasn’t like that, I took over for mother in comforting her. That’s all.” He assured. 

 

“This time. That’s all it was this time. I know the two of you wer-” 

 

“It's been over a decade since then. We would never do anything to jeopardize the fragility of our unions. Especially now.” 

 

Rhaegar stared at him, Aegon had always hated when he tried to see through him. Especially when he was successful. 

 

“Good.” Rhaegar spoke, looking away from his son and back to his work. 

 

“If you can, help me form a plan for this relocation. We need it to take place as quickly as possible.” 

 

**RHAENYS**

 

“How long have they been sleeping?” She asked, closing the door of Aegon’s room behind her before turning her attention towards Elizabeth and the children. The darker skinned woman turned to her and gave her a weak smile. 

 

“Umm, since dawn. They were so anxious and scared. Jae didn’t speak, just sat on the edge of the bed for hours. Eventually Aly and I sung him and Rhaena to sleep. She fell shortly after.” 

 

“I’m guessing you didn’t sleep at all.” Rhaenys asked her sister in law. Elizabeth looked at her, tired but kind eyes and shrugged. 

 

“No, not really. I needed to make sure they stayed that way and then my mind began to spiral and um-sleep never came.” Guilt filled her with Elizabeth's words, she had been lying in the arms of the woman’s husband while she dealt with three restless children. Sleep didn’t come easy to her but it had come. 

 

“I can watch them from now on. I’m sure my mother and father are planning a gathering to regroup by the evening. You can sleep till then. My old room is vacant if you would like the quiet and space, Aegon was summoned by our father but I will send for him to join you after if you’d wish. For now, I’ll send one of the guards we can spare with you.” Rhaenys smiled warmly at Elizabeth.

 

“Yes umm, I’d think I’d like that. Yesterday’s events were quite...extensive and then dealing with the children, as much as I love them all, it’s-” 

 

“A lot for anyone.” Rhaenys finished and Elizabeth nodded. . 

 

Carefully, she moved herself from the bed and mumbled a thank you. Rhaenys ordered for one of the two guards outside their rooms to follow Elizabeth to hers before cautiously lying back down in her place with the children. Jae stirred in his sleep and for a moment, she feared she had woken him but her son only sunk deeper into his mother’s warmth. The action made her chest ache as her heart warmed in his presence. 

 

He was the only son of hers she would ever feel this from ever again. 

 

Another stray tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away before she pulled him in closer. Stroking his soft raven curls with her hand as she looked down at the trio of young ones. They were lucky to have their lives even if the weight of their futures had grown heavier and more significant. 

 

There was a time in her life where Rhaenys had hated the woman who gifted the world with Alysanne and Rhaena. Elizabeth was once the woman she despised more than anything. It had come from a place of immaturity for reasons she should’ve been ashamed of. Part of her was. 

 

Not only was she and her family valued assets to the Targaryens, she was also kind. A rarity in the life they lived. If she hadn’t seen the woman in action, Rhaenys would assume she wasn’t capable of hurting a fly based on her demeanor. She would be wrong of course but Elizabeth had something that many in their part of the world didn’t. 

 

Light. 

 

She was grateful her daughters had inherited it from their mother. It didn’t come from their Targaryen side that’s for sure. There was a reason her family were known as ruthless monsters, not all of them were rumors. Even after enduring immense trauma, Elizabeth still found it within herself to give love and assurance to the children who so desperately needed it. 

 

A woman worthy of admiration in her eyes. 

 

It had taken her nearly a decade to realize it and she still wasn’t sure she would classify her and her sister in law as friends but they certainly weren’t enemies. It was difficult to care for the woman who had taken the person she loved most in the world from her. She allowed her naive need to blame someone for her misfortune to cloud her perspective. In the years after they had both birthed children of their own, she saw more clearly. 

 

She was never to blame, just another victim of her blood ties and obligations. They had grown to understand each other and the resentment eventually faded away. 

 

Now she entrusted her with her child and vice versa.

 

Jae’s soft snores pulled his mother from her thoughts as she looked down at him. The feeling that overwhelmed her at the sight of her son, he-her only son, breathing. Chest heaving up and down was all consuming. She was grateful for his survival above all else but even now, she could feel her loss eating away at her. 

 

Her eldest borns would have to be cremated in the valyrian sense, the thought made her choke up. She could not wrap her head around such things, not yet. Not when they’re little bodies hadn’t even grown cold. Images of their faces flashed through her and Rhaenys forced those thoughts away. The tears were flowing and she could not, she would not, she fucking refused to be consumed by her grief. 

 

She couldn’t acknowledge it. 

 

So she shoved the thoughts away and fixated on Jae. And Aly and Rhaena and all that her family had left, not what they had lost. She didn’t even know who else might’ve- _ stop,  _ her mind warned. If she went down this path that led to the pit of all she had lost, she would not come out of it. 

 

If she looked back, she was lost. 

 

She can feel her son moving against her, when his breathing turns uneven, worry fills her.    
  


“My love” she moves to gently shake him awake. Her efforts don’t work. Then the whining begins, as if he’s begging for mercy and Rhaenys rises quickly. Pulling him into her arms as her shaking grows rougher. Her movements are more frantic, images of Duncan and Brynden in her arms fill her mind and tears fall from her cheeks. 

 

“My baby, my baby. Please, please wake up!”  She was losing him! She couldn’t! She couldn’t lose him, not her baby! Anything but him!   
  


“Please Jae! Wake up! Wake up!” She didn’t realize she was screaming, losing herself in memories still fresh. 

 

The distant sound of his voice, the gentle pleas as he woke. Calling out mommy and for her to stop never registered. She couldn’t hear him. All she could see was a corpse that wasn’t there. She would not lose him! She refused to lose him too!

 

“Aunty Rhae!” Alysanne’s scream and the pull she felt on her arm brought her out of her mind and back to reality. The children were all awake and staring at her, the fear in Jae’s eyes startled her to her core. She had-she had lost control. The realization hit her like a bullet. 

 

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so sorry.” She told him, pulling him close to her and holding him there. Rocking back and forth with him in his arms. Hesitantly, Jae reciprocated her affections mumbling a small its okay that broke her heart. Alysanne’s small arms wrapped around her back and soon Rhaena joined her on their aunt’s side.    
  
Rhaenys worked to steady her breathing as the youngest Targaryens clutched onto her. She wasn’t sure she was worthy of such a display of unconditional love. Not after inflicting her own trauma on her son, still she clung to it like her lungs did oxygen. 

 

She’d have to find them all someone to speak to after this. God knows how this would impact them psychologically and just the thought of it made her unwell. More than she already was. 

 

A gentle knock sounded at the door and they pulled away from each other’s embrace. The lack of warmth left her feeling cold but pushed that feeling away. Gathering her composure in whatever way she possibly could. 

 

“Come in.” Rhaenys said, wiping away at her tears. 

 

An unsullied man whose name she couldn’t place opened the door. “Your mother and father request yours and the children's presence in the great hall.” 

 

She nodded, “well then, we’ll be there shortly.”

 

He nodded curtly before leaving. 

 

She had to pull herself together. No one could see her or any other dragon falter especially in this time of weakness. Their allies were already doubting them, the least they could do is not give them a reason to in their appearances. Even if they were all still in last night’s clothing. 

“Mommy I don’t want to go.” Jae told her and Rhaenys turned to face him, anxiety in his precious light eyes. 

 

“I know baby, neither do I but we all must do things we don’t want to sometimes. I’ll be there with you every step of the way.” She promised but no ease came to him with that knowledge, his body was still tense and he seemed afraid. Did he fear her? Now her child had a reason to fear her, if her heart hadn’t already been broken before then this would fracture it even more. 

 

“I’ll be there. So will Rhaena and all of our family. You won’t be alone.” Alysanne told him, gaining the attention of both him and his mother. Jae stared at her, not making a sound or even a shake of his head to indicate how he truly felt on the topic. 

 

“You’re a dragon my love, you must be as strong as one.” Rhaenys told him. Her son peered at her and for a moment, she couldn’t read him. She didn’t know what he was thinking and the realization haunted her. He was too young to brood and contemplate in the way his grandfather did. 

 

Jae brought his hand to her own, “okay. I’ll be a dragon.” 

 

~TM~

 

Her mother and father stood by side by side before them all atop the platform in the front of the room They were beautiful but it was at that moment, Rhaenys could see the years of this work weighing on their skin. She could feel the tensions and nerves all around her, like electricity circulating the room. Jae sat in her lap, quiet as a mouse as Alysanne and Rhaena sat at either of her sides. 

 

Arianne and Margaery sat side by side on the other side of the hall. Rows of strange faces behind them, Unsullied, Dothraki and Stark. It brought her no comfort, just made her wish she had kept her knife tucked away somewhere safely amongst the strangers that had them surrounded. There was no one here she could trust, no one she was willing to. Aegon wasn’t there, he must’ve been waking Elizabeth from her slumber. 

 

“Yesterday’s attack was carried out by two mutual enemies of ours. A powerful northern family and a traitorous western family. The Lannisters and The Walkers. Their domains lie in the west and the far north. We’ve joined houses with the Starks in order to better protect ourselves, they have done the same with more haste and for this reason they were able to us strike first and strike us hard.” Elia began, despite what her mother felt there was no indication of emotion in her tone. 

 

She was as solid as a rock and Rhaenys wondered how she could do it, any of it without crumbling under the weight of it all. 

 

“As most of you  have noticed by now, the sons are absent from this gathering. After years, nearly a decade of our affiliation with them, the sons came under new leadership after the passing of Orland Wyne by the name of Daario Naharis. He double crossed us all, lied to our faces and committed one of the most heinous acts of betrayal I have ever bared witness to. I ensured you all protection and I failed. For that, I cannot extend enough of my apologies and I will spend years earning your trust again but I ask of you not to leave us alone in this war. They didn’t just attack us Targaryens, they knew all of you would be here and they didn’t care.” Rhaegar announced, voice filled with conviction despite his cool demeanor. 

 

“They targeted your lives as much as they did ours. They weren’t just trying to extinguish the fire of dragons, they wanted to weaken us all. To rip the dothraki of their powerful strides. To muzzle the wolves. To break the spears of the Martells and to crush the roses in the Tyrell garden. And they believe they did and they are wrong.” 

 

They were speaking words of unity to them all, trying to shift the negative emotions that ran high in that moment toward their enemies. It was smart. 

 

“Yet we still stand. They underestimated us and our ability to retaliate. In time, we will hit them even harder in a way they will never recover and we will gain the vengeance we all so desperately crave. Unfortunately, they did succeed in damaging us but not in destroying, none of us would ever fall that easily. We all took hits and soon news of this attack will spread to smaller gangs within our territories and they will challenge our power and influence.” Rhaegar spoke, it was common knowledge to them all but hearing it said aloud made it feel more real. Made it all feel too real. 

 

Rhaenys could feel her palms begin to sweat and her heart race against her chest. It was all too loud, too many people, too much. A small hand placed itself on her back and she turned in its direction. Alysanne smiled at her, bringing more comfort than she knew. Rhaenys returned the gesture, forcing herself to focus on the speech at hand. 

 

“In the time it takes us to regain stability of our territories, Tywin Lannister will grow overconfident, he will make a mistake and when he does we will sniff him out and end him. We will destroy all he loves in the way he attempted to do us we will make him beg for mercy. We lost over a dozen people yesterday, valued members of our families. We will never replace them but we can avenge them. When the time comes we will need one another to finish him.” Elia’s anger seeped out, an edge in her voice as she spoke. 

 

“Your anger will not be discarded and until we can destroy those responsible, I encourage you all to release it on those who will question your power because they will come.” Rhaegar ensured. 

 

“Beautiful sermon.” Arianna announced, gaining the attention all within the vicinity. 

 

“Do your allies have a say in any of this?” She asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in her tone.

 

“Always.” Rhaegar told her truthfully.

 

For a moment, she just sat there. Staring at him incredulously, Rhaenys spotted Viserys in the far corner. His gaze trained on his ex lover. After a few beats of tense silence, Arianne stood and walked down the aisle. Heels clicking loudly against the marble floor as she did, the guards at the door moved aside for her. She shoved the double doors open with a force that would surprise anyone who didn’t know her. She was a woman of dramatic and if it were under any circumstances, her actions might’ve garnered a laugh. Not today however. 

 

“All that’s not my immediate blood is free to leave.” Rhaegar spoke after her exit. 

 

Rhaenys watched as everyone stood and cleared out, mumbling amongst themselves as they gravitated towards their own groups. Most drifted back towards the medical wing to be with their loved ones. 

 

Once the room was empty except for them and secure, she caught sight of Daenerys in the very back. She had changed out of her wedding dress, maybe even showered and now she sat in an old wool sweater and dress pants. Viserys moved from his corner and to the nearest chair, he had also changed into another suit. Black with a grey undershirt and dress shoes. Leave it to him to remain fashionable in a crisis. 

 

“Where’s Egg?” She asked. 

 

“I’m not sure but he already knows what we need to speak of.” Her father told her and she nodded. 

 

“We need to leave. Dragonstone is no longer safe, after the funerals are held we’ll relocate to Summerhall. It’s farther from our territory but not out of reach. We still have influence in the city but we’ll need to ensure the gangs beneath us don’t forget their place.” 

 

“We’ll need someone there.” Daenerys spoke up. 

 

“I know. Aegon has already agreed. Viserys will be too busy in Essos and you in the north, putting him out there will give him the chance to prove himself as my heir.” Rhaegar informed them all. Aegon will be at the frontlines in the city, the likelihood of her losing him had just increased tenfold. The realization struck her core and threatened to hollow her out even more. 

 

“He’ll be vulnerable there.” She found herself speaking, rubbing smooth circles on Jae’s little knees to calm herself.  Her son moved to lay back against her shoulder, remaining silent. 

 

“No more vulnerable there then he is here. I have faith in your brother and you should too.” Rhaegar told her. Hadn’t they lost enough? Why would he put them in a position where they could lose more? She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself as little Alysanne rubbed her spine. 

 

It wasn’t faith she needed, it was fearlessness. 

 

The sound of the double doors slamming open took all their attention to the back of the room. Aegon stood there, breathless and distressed. 

 

“Elizabeth,” he breathed out. Instinctively, she removed Jae from her lap and sat him in the chair. She moved towards him rapidly, second nature taking over . Her right hand rested on his shoulder and her left moved under his chin so she could look him in the eyes.

 

“What is it?” Rhaenys asked softly and she could see the tears well in his eyes. Something had happened, something awful.

 

“She won’t wake up. Elizabeth, she’s not waking up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you guys enjoyed, let me know what you think in the comments. they are greatly appreciated.


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